The Lion's Keeper
by MeLoNnAiSE
Summary: Akashi Seijuuro is a young child and Furihata is a high school student hired as his caretaker. They part and meet again when Akashi is graduating from Rakuzan – and Akashi is determined to never let Furihata go again. Slow burn AkaFuri. Also MidoTaka, AoKi, MuraHimu, KagaKuro. Rating will go up to M eventually.
1. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

**The Lion's Keeper**

**Summary: **Akashi Seijuuro is a young child and Furihata is a high school student hired as his caretaker. They part and meet again when Akashi is graduating from Rakuzan – and Akashi is determined to never let Furihata go again. Slow burn AkaFuri. Also MidoTaka, AoKi, MuraHimu, KagaKuro.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kuroko no Basket or any of it's characters. If I did, they'd all be making out viciously with each other between matches in their sweaty changing rooms. Oh, the sexual tension.

**A/N: **This will be a slow, slow burn. Expect a lot of kawaii child!Akashi moments before Akashi actually grows up and re-meets Furihata. The rating is M, so yes, eventually, there will be some steamy male-on-male action. But I repeat, slowwww burn.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face**

**Summary:** In which Akashi Seijuuro is introduced to Furihata Kouki, Yukimaru, and tofu soup.

* * *

Akashi Seijuuro is a difficult child.

But not in the typical way that most children are difficult. Some children are whiny. Some crave constant attention. Some are mischievous to the point of being dangerous. But these children are not like Akashi. Akashi's problem is on a different level altogether. That is, being too smart for his age, far too perceptive than he is supposed to be, and unafraid to show it.

"Father?" Akashi peaks his head through the door of his father's office one day, after his father's guest had left.

"Yes? Come in, son. Don't hover, it's unsightly. What is the matter?"

"That man. Who was he?"

"A friend of mine, Seijuuro."

"Oh."

"Why do you ask?"

"Well," He tilts his little head to one side, round eyes blinking up curiously at his father. "You look at him the way you look at Mama sometimes. Why?"

Akashi Junichiro, the head of the Akashi Clan, stares as his son for a long moment. He rests his hand on young Akashi's head gently, but firmly. His lips stretches into a strict line. "You shouldn't ask questions like that, Seijuuro."

On that day, Junichiro decides that Akashi Seijuuro needs a personal caretaker. The kid is already excelling so fast some extra tutoring could be useful – make him marginally more exceptional than other boys of his age; engage him in more physical activities, maybe. Perhaps a music lesson as well. Yes, anything to keep the child occupied – his prying eyes kept away from his parents' business.

* * *

Three weeks later, and Akashi Seijuuro's caretaker runs crying out of the mansion, tears streaming her face, blubbering that she cannot and will not put herself through this sort of humiliation on a daily basis. Especially not by the hands of a mere _child_. Unfortunately, this is the fifth time an incident of this sort has occurred. Five caretakers, all professionals, three who are unable to deal with Akashi's criticism, and two who are fired by Akashi himself.

When questioned about the matter, Akashi simply says, "They are foolish. Impatient. Only here for the money. All of them."

His mother, Seiko, sighs. "Is it necessary to tell that to their faces, though? You weren't planning to fire the latest one, weren't you?"

Akashi blinks, "Pointing out her flaws will allow her to improve. Is that not correct?"

Seiko looks to Junichiro, who only shrugs from behind his newspaper and tells her that they'll just keep hiring. One is bound to work out. Eventually.

* * *

One month and six caretakers later and Seiko is starting to become desperate. Her child is beginning to build up a reputation amongst the professional caretakers as a "one-week killer", making it progressively more difficult to find someone for the job. But Junichiro insists on keeping on hiring, and Seiko eventually decides to try her luck elsewhere. If professionals cannot do the job, then maybe amateurs, someone younger, will have a different touch. It might even do her son some good to be with someone less strict – more freedom, less control.

The amateur presents himself in a flyer in the form of Furihata Kouki. Furihata is a local, average high school student who is looking for a part-time job. He can do a little bit of everything – a little bit of piano, a little bit of basketball, hardly a genius but smart enough to be able to tutor child of Akashi's age. He has no experience whatsoever, apart from helping his friends take care of their younger siblings. Seiko is doubtful, but she decides to give it a go either way. After all, what is the worse that could happen?

* * *

Akashi stares up at the taller teenager who is approaching him with unblinking red eyes.

"H-hello," Furihata stutters nervously, "Akashi-kun, right?"

"Good afternoon," Akashi politely responds, but offers nothing more. He is still staring, looking at the stranger up and down. He recognizes the uniform and thinks to himself that this one is younger than all the ones he's met before. Akashi wonders how long he will last.

"Ano, it's nice to me- uwah!" Furihata squeaks as he trips over his own feet, stumbles for a few steps, and finally comes to a stop right in front of Akashi. "G-gomenasai. How clumsy of me..." Furihata apologizes, scratching the back of his head.

Akashi lifts his chin and blinks up at him, saying nothing.

"Ah-! How could I not remember?" Furihata surprises Akashi when suddenly the teenager plops down and sits cross-legged in front of him. With Akashi standing and Furihata sitting, their eye levels are much better matched. Furihata smiles sheepishly at him, "Heeh, sorry about that. You were craning your neck to look at me – that probably wasn't very nice, ne? Now you can just look straight at me. Is this better?"

Akashi stares at him, then slowly nods. "Yes. This is better."

Furihata beams at him, and Akashi wonders why he is so happy.

"W-well, it's nice to finally meet you Akashi-kun. My name is Furihata Kouki," He offers his hand to Akashi for a handshake.

Akashi looks down at the hand, back up at Furihata's smile, then back down to the hand before he carefully places his own much-smaller palm into Furihata's own. "Akashi Seijuuro. It's a pleasure to meet you too."

"You're awfully polite, aren't you, Akashi-kun?" Furihata shakes his hand gently. He remains holding his hand even after the handshake is done.

"Am I?" Akashi tilts his head.

"Yes. Akashi-kun is very well-mannered. Especially for your age."

"Hm," Akashi considers this. None of the previous caretakers have ever told him this before. They only scolded him for being arrogant and verbally hostile. "Thank you. And you can call me Seijuuro. My parents are Akashi as well, it is confusing."

"Hehh? That's a good point. Alright, 'Seijuuro-kun' it is, then?"

"Mm. That is fine, Furihata-san."

"Oh, you can just call me Kouki. Don't worry about being formal. We'll be seeing each other a lot after today, ne?"

Akashi looks at Furihata's gentle smile – genuine, for a change – at their still-connected hands, Furihata's palm warm around his fingers, and decides in that moment that he wouldn't mind seeing this one around.

"Alright, Kouki."

* * *

One month later, and everyone in the Akashi household is amazed to see the brown-haired boy named Furihata Kouki still appearing at their front gates every other weekday, three times a week. He'd lasted much longer than any caretaker ever did thus far, and the most surprising of all, Akashi seems to have taken to him.

The young master is sitting by the piano today, small fingers playing Canon in D in perfect tempo. He stops playing when he hears the door open, turning his head around.

"Kouki." Akashi nods.

"Good afternoon, Seijuuro-kun. You were playing beautifully just now."

"Thank you." Akashi shuffles over on his seat to allow space for Furihata to sit next to him. "You said we were going to move onto a new song, so I wanted to perfect this one."

Furihata smiles and shakes his head, partly in awe. Akashi, in the one month that he had known him, is proving to be an unbelievably eloquent child who apparently can do no wrong. Everything he touches turns to gold. The piano is no exception. "That's very good, Seijuuro-kun! Well done. Ah-! Maybe I should give you a reward for practicing so well?"

"A reward?" Akashi tilts his head, curious.

"Yes, yes. A reward. Is there anything you want in particular?"

"A horse." Akashi says with no hesitation.

"A- a horse?" Furihata repeats, incredulously. He shouldn't be surprised. Not really. Not after having spent one month with the Akashi family. He smiles dryly at Akashi, "I'm sorry, but that's a little bit, um, far-fetched for me. But m-maybe... if you really want one, you should ask Junichiro-san?"

"I already did. Father said he would buy me one if I finish reading those books by the end of this week." Akashi points with his short, chubby index finger of a child to a neat pile of English books beside the piano. Furihata recognizes a few titles – all by the same author, Roald Dahl.

"But... that's a _lot_ of books." Furihata counts – there are six books in total. Even Furihata would struggle to finish all of those in a week.

"Father says it will improve my English."

"T-that is true. But still. Seijuuro-kun, make sure you're not pushing yourself too hard, okay? You're so young, you should spend more time having fun. I'm sure Junichiro-san will compromise."

Akashi stares at him like Furihata had just said something utterly ridiculous. "Father does not compromise."

"Oh. Um..."

"And I want the horse."

"Right, but-"

"I have already finished three books and am halfway through Matilda." Akashi's eyes narrow in a way that is so un-childlike that Furihata shivers. "I will _not_ fail."

"A-alright then, Seijuuro-kun," Furihata is forced to give in, resting a hand on Akashi's back. When the child seems to have relaxed a bit, Furihata changes the subject. "So, since the horse is already on its way, what about a different reward from me?"

"A different reward."

"Yes. How about, hmm..." Furihata taps his lips in thought, "Something you like to eat?"

"Something I like to eat." Akashi has a habit of repeating words, Furihata notices. He finds it rather adorable – Akashi reminds Furihata of a little red parrot. This habit is also partly the reason why Akashi's vocabulary is extraordinarily large. That, and being ordered by his father to read through a certain amount of pages in the Dictionary each day. Akashi often recites new words he's learnt to Furihata, some words even beyond the high schooler's own vocabulary. It is strange, yes, but Furihata is gradually finding that there is very little that is ordinary about the way Akashi is raised.

"Yes. You know, anything. Maybe sweets?"

Akashi scrunches his nose in distaste.

"Alright, no sweets then. Something savory, hm..."

"Savory. Not sweet."

"What about... chawanmushi? No? Then, tamago dofu? Tofu soup?"

"Tofu soup?" Akashi perks up at that.

"You've never had it?"

"No." He shakes his head, soft hair flowing with the motion. "But I do enjoy tofu."

"Okay then, tofu soup it is. I'll ask Mama to make it and bring some over when she does, ne?"

"Ah. Send your Mama my thanks when you do."

"Pff-" Furihata smiles and chuckles. "Will do, will do."

Akashi is confused. "Did I say something funny?"

"Oh, no, Seijuuro-kun. It's just that you sound so adult-like and proper, it makes me feel inadequate at my age." Furihata laughs easily.

"'Inadequate'," Akashi tests the word out on his tongue, before wondering aloud, "Father likes to say that."

Upon hearing that, Furihata frowns a little. He sincerely hopes that the head of the Akashi family did not use such words against his young son. Unthinkingly, Furihata places a hand atop of Akashi's small head – something he has never done before – tenderly smoothing Akashi's hair. His voice is gentle as he speaks, "You know... from what I've seen, Seijuuro-kun is far beyond adequate at everything that Seijuuro-kun does. "

Akashi merely blinks at him, silent for a moment as he observes Furihata. Perhaps to detect any signs of ingenuity. Perhaps to think over his words. Perhaps to just soak in the sensation of Furihata's hand in his hair. Seiko used to do this to him a lot when he was younger, much younger, but she has been refraining ever since Junichiro told her off for coddling their child too much.

"I think Kouki is very far from inadequate too." Akashi says. And is surprised to find that he actually means it.

"Ah," Furihata smiles, and Akashi notices the way Furihata's eyes crinkles – how they smile with him. "Thank you very much, Seijuuro-kun."

Furihata rubs his head warmly a few more times after that, and Akashi discovers that he does not mind it even a little bit. In fact, quite the opposite.

Perhaps, sometimes, Akashi just misses being coddled.

* * *

One week later, Akashi Seijuuro ends up getting his horse. It is a white horse of a pure, expensive breed – of course, only the best for the Akashi heir – apparently born on a snowy day in the exact same month and year as Akashi himself.

"This is Yukimaru," Akashi proudly announces to Furihata, thrusting a photo of his brand new horse into his hand. "I get to see him at the club once a week."

"That's great, Seijuuro-kun!" Furihata beams, knowing that Akashi must be thrilled. The child doesn't smile very much – hardly at all, actually – but Furihata sees the corner of Akashi's lips tugging up just a little when he talks about Yukimaru.

Then, when Furihata presents to him his home-cooked tofu soup – the promised 'reward' - Akashi's tiny hint of a smile grew into a full-smile after the first spoonful. His deep red eyes are wide and positively sparkling, like he had just discovered one of the world's greatest treasures. Akashi finishes the whole bowl in less than ten minutes, eating and drinking everything to the very last drop. Furihata has never seen anything so charming.

Furihata is unable to resist. He reaches out to pet Akashi's head once again, and to his surprise, Akashi leans into the touch.

"Tofu soup is now my favorite food," Akashi declares. Then, shortly after, adds, "Thank you, Kouki. This has been a good week."

* * *

The first time Furihata witnesses Akashi being scolded is when Furihata is in his third month of the job and Junichiro had just found out that Akashi had been leaving out particular foods at dinner. Akashi usually either eats with his mother or eats alone whilst watching documentaries. The household maid had been questioned about Akashi's diet and made to report to Junichiro. Furihata arrives just in time to catch Junichiro's final words through Akashi's room's door. Seiko is already there in front of the room before him, and she stops Furihata, pulling him aside, silencing him with an index finger to her lips.

"Are you defying me, Seijuuro?"

"...no, Father." Akashi's voice is quiet and small, like Furihata had never heard before.

"Good. Then finish that bowl before I return. Every last piece, Seijuuro. You will not be particular about food, it is a bad habit. If you are petty about something as simple as this, then what else will you be petty about later? As an Akashi, you should be faultless in all aspects of life. "

"..."

"My orders are absolute. If you do not do as I say, you will not be allowed to go see your horse this weekend. Do I make myself clear?"

"...yes, I understand."

The door then opens a moment later, and a very stern Akashi Junichiro steps out of the room. He eyes Furihata once, then ignores him altogether as though he is not worth the time. His eyes instead settle on Seiko, who looks like she wants to say something.

Junichiro shakes his head, "Not a word, Seiko. He needs to learn to be disciplined – the younger the better."

"I understand that, but-"

Junichiro waves a hand to cut her off, "We can discuss this in my office. Seijuuro can hear us from here." He disappears down the stairs after that. No arguments.

Seiko looks apologetically to Furihata, "Sorry, Furihata-kun. I'll have to leave Seijuuro in your care for now." Then, she sighs and lowers her voice into a whisper, "I'm worried about him. He's far too controlled than any child his age should be. I fear that he's going to crumble up inside. Please, look out for him, won't you?"

"H-hai..." Furihata dips into a respectful bow, feeling the weight of Seiko's words heavy on his shoulders.

When Seiko has gone, Furihata politely knocks on Akashi's door.

"Who is it..?" Furihata may be imagining things, but Akashi's voice sounds strained. Wary.

"Seijuuro-kun, it's me."

"Kouki." There is a short pause. Then, "You can come in."

Furihata finds Akashi huddled in his chair behind his desk, hugging his knees, soft chubby cheeks pressed up by his kneecaps which are peaking out from his yukata. In front of him is a bowl full of wakame seaweed. Akashi prods at the green pieces with his chopsticks with a look of mixed disgust and alarm. His eyes glance at Furihata as he enters the room, greeting him in a flat voice, "Kouki."

Furihata approaches him slowly, kneeling down on the floor next to his chair. "So... I take it you don't like seaweed."

Akashi shudders visibly, "I _abhor_ it."

There it is. Another new word from the dictionary. Furihata figures it means something negative and doesn't dwell on it. "Wakame is pretty tasty, though. It isn't nearly half as bad as it appears to be."

"It is _seaweed_," Akashi cringes, "It is no different from grass, just that it is from the bottom of the sea. And it is slimy." He shudders again, his entire little body moving with the motion.

"Ano... if you hate it that much you could have explained-"

Akashi scoffs in a way that is terrifyingly adult-like. "You think I haven't tried?"

Furihata falls silent.

"He doesn't listen." Akashi mumbles, almost to himself. "His words are absolute." He prods at the seaweed with more force, as though taking his frustrations out on them. Then, he abruptly stops, and spins his chair to face Furihata, eyes intense. "Is it so bad that I dislike seaweed? I eat other vegetables just fine. It is just wakame that I refuse to eat. Does that make me 'petty', Kouki?"

"Ah, Seijuuro-kun," Furihata shakes his head, "People are a-allowed to have foods they dislike, you know."

"Apparently not in Father's eyes."

"He has... good intentions." Intentions that Furihata will never understand, but still. "He's your father. He only wants what's best for you."

"He wants what is best for 'Akashi'."

"Don't think of it that way. I'm sure that's not true." Not all true, anyways.

"Hn." Akashi is back prodding at the seaweed. "He's even taking away my weekly visit with Yukimaru."

Oh no. Is this Akashi sulking? Furihata has never encountered Akashi in this mood before. "Eh... a-alright. How about this-" Furihata pulls the bowl towards himself, "I'll help you eat your wakame, so you don't have to eat as much. Okay?"

Akashi blinks, "But Father said I have to finish it."

"I won't tell. Junichiro-san will never find out."

"But it defeats the purpose of this punishment. Isn't that cheating?"

"Seijuuro-kun's still eating the wakame anyways, it's not like I'm eating it all for you. I'm just- sharing out the burden. That's not cheating. It's... teamwork. Yeah."

"Teamwork...?" Akashi looks unconvinced.

"Yes, teamwork. And teamwork is a good skill to have, ne?"

Akashi considers this – mulls it over in his head a few times. He eyes the wakame for a long while before he eventually looks back up at Furihata, cautious. "You won't tell?"

"You have my promise." Furihata offers Akashi his pinky finger.

Akashi stares at it ridiculously like Furihata had just offered him a gecko, "I don't understand the hand gesture."

"Oh-!" Of course. Of course he doesn't. "It's a pinky-promise. You link your pinky finger with mine, just like this..."

"And?"

"And we shake on it." They shake. "And it makes the promise stronger – because pinky-promises absolutely _cannot_ be broken."

"...absolutely?" Akashi stares at their connected fingers, doubtfully.

"Absolutely," Furihata confirms, smiling with his whole face. "Trust me."

Maybe it was Furihata's gentle smile, or the warmth of Furihata's hand, or the fact that Furihata had never been anything less than genuine with him, or Akashi is just incredibly glad he doesn't need to consume all that seaweed by himself – but Akashi suddenly realises that he does truly trust Furihata. And it is strange, because Furihata is not even of his blood, but he's beginning to feel more and more like family.

"...Father must never ever find out." Akashi insists.

"Never ever." Furihata shakes their pinkies again to ensure him. "This will be our little secret only. Deal, Seijuuro-kun?"

It took another long moment of consideration, mental lists of pros and cons, before Akashi finally, _finally_ nods once.

"Deal, Kouki."

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, Yukimaru is canon. Also the tofu soup thing, which I think is just the cutest. The name 'Junichiro' I took from a list of names of Japanese emperors, and 'Seiko' is chosen because it's similar to Seijuuro.

I hope you guys enjoyed the first installment. I am just head over heels for AkaFuri. Expect increasing sweetness as we go along!


	2. Latch

**A/N:** Oh wow, I'm so pleasantly surprised by how much attention this fic received with only one chapter! Thank you all of you very much for all the follows, favourites and reviews. Your support is much appreciated :)

Also, to answer the FAQ: child!Akashi is around 6-7 years old and Furihata is about 16 when they first meet. Note that they do age as we go along the child!Akashi moments.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Latch**

**Summary:** In which Furihata picks Akashi up. Twice.

* * *

For ten months since he's started working as his caretaker, Furihata only ever sees Akashi exclusively in the Akashi mansion. The first time Furihata encounters him outside of the household is on a rainy day, when Furihata is heading home from school with other First-years.

"Eh? Seijuuro-kun?"

Furihata spots Akashi across the road, hiding from the rain under the shelter of a bus stop, small body huddled into a little ball on the bench. His white yukata is pulled tight around himself so that only his small red head is poking through. The boy is alone – an unusual event, because Furihata knows for a fact that Akashi is _never_ left unaccompanied outside of the mansion. One of the Akashi servants are always with him, either that or his driver.

Concerned, Furihata decides he should go take a look and tells his friends to go ahead without him. Then, he jogs through the rain over to the bus stop. As he approaches, he notices that Akashi's white yukata is dirty with splatters of muddy water and that the patch of fabric stretched over his small knee is stained red. Furihata speeds up.

"Seijuuro-kun!" Furihata immediately crouches down in front of Akashi as he reaches him, now seeing that the red stain is obviously blood. Furihata panics, fussing over the child. "A-are you okay? Seijuuro-kun, w-what happened? Why are you all alone?"

"...Kouki," Akashi murmurs with wide eyes when he sees Furihata, visibly relieved. His tense body relaxes a tad as he explains, "There was a large, busy crowd and I got separated from my driver. Then it started raining, so I thought waiting here is the most logical course of action." Akashi shuffles in his seat and winces when the yukata brushes against his legs.

"Are you- are you hurt?" Furihata tugs on the yukata to unveil Akashi's knee. As he predicted, it is bleeding and quite badly scraped. Furihata looks up at Akashi's face worriedly, "Your knee!"

"...I fell." Akashi admits quietly, reluctantly, not meeting Furihata's eyes.

"Does it hurt? How long have you been sitting here, all alone?" Furihata places a hand on Akashi's head, rubbing it gently, comfortingly, as he always does.

"About an hour," Akashi sniffs.

"Oh, Seijuuro-kun..." Furihata wraps his arms around him without a second thought. He cradles Akashi into his arms and embraces his small body – feeling even more protective when he feels how cold Akashi is.

Akashi is stunned. He freezes in the spot, both arms by his side, and blinks rapidly at the sudden intimacy.

Furihata's hand is smoothing his hair, murmuring softly, "Does it hurt? You can tell me."

"It doesn't." Akashi says immediately.

"Really?"

"Really."

Furihata sighs, "You don't have to act tough, Seijuuro-kun."

Akashi pauses, then shakes his head decisively, "I can't."

"You can't?"

"I can't be _weak_." He frowns.

Furihata thinks that that is probably the saddest thing he's ever heard from a child and hugs Akashi tighter. He says, firmly, "I'm not Junichiro-san."

"No," Akashi shakes his head again, with more force, eyes blazing, "Kouki is _nothing_ like Father."

"T-that's right. So, there's no need for that in front of me at all," Furihata picks up one of Akashi's small hands and places it on his biceps. He squeezes his own larger hand over Akashi's, feeling Akashi's small fingers dig into his muscles, a sheepish smile on his face. "I'm weak too, see?"

Akashi stares down at their connected hands, registering the information. Furihata waits patiently for his response, still holding Akashi close to him. By now, Furihata has spent enough time with Akashi to know that his thought process is unusual. Unlike most children, Akashi rarely gives a reaction straight away. Instead, he takes all the details in first, processes everything thoroughly, and _then_ act.

After a long moment of silence apart from the pit-pattering of raindrops, something shifts. Akashi's free arm moves to curl around Furihata's back – slowly, assiduously, as though he is doing something forbidden.

Then, he rests his forehead on Furihata's shoulder and mumbles into his shirt in the smallest voice. "It... hurts. A little bit."

"I know, Sei-kun. You've been very brave." Furihata coos, fingers sifting through red hair. "Now, let's take you home, ne? Everyone must be worried sick."

"Okay." Akashi's face is still buried into Furihata's shoulder, embarrassed by his earlier admission.

Furihata chuckles fondly and releases Akashi from his arms. He then stands to remove his raincoat before draping it over Akashi's head – the raincoat so big on the child that it envelopes him almost entirely. Furihata beams at the adorable sight. Then, he crouches down to the floor once again, but this time with his back to Akashi. "Come on, then."

Akashi stares at him. "What?"

"Your knee is injured. It's better if I just carry you home."

Akashi just continues staring. "That's not necessary. I can walk."

"But walking hurts, doesn't it?" Furihata turns his head backwards to glance at him.

Walking does hurt. But Akashi is also taught to be independent. And this- this is so far from what his father means by 'independence', Akashi is sure. What will Junichiro say if he saw Akashi being piggybacked like some immature brat? And what will his other servants think of him? But walking does hurt. Plus, he really doesn't want his knee to start bleeding again. Akashi frowns until his two little red brows are almost tied into a knot, mentally arguing the points in his mind.

Furihata sees the frown and shakes his head lightly, a knowing smile on his lips, understanding exactly what the boy is thinking. He decides to take matters into his own hand and grabs for Akashi's wrists, hooking Akashi's small arms securely around his neck. After that is done, Furihata reaches behind with both hands and places one on the back of each of Akashi's thighs. Then, in one heaving movement, Furihata lifts Akashi right off the bench and straight into a piggyback. "Up we go."

Akashi makes a cute tiny _squawking_ noise, both incredulous and indignant. Then, a displeased, "Kouki!"

Furihata only laughs and starts walking. "If it were up to Sei-kun we'd still be sitting there when the sun goes down."

"That does not mean you can suddenly pick people up without their permission. That's- _rude_." Akashi grumbles. But despite his complaints, Akashi's legs has already automatically fastened themselves firmly around Furihata's waist. Furihata takes that as enough permission from Akashi to continue carrying him.

The rain starts to fade as Furihata carries Akashi back to his mansion. Along the way, they talk about the books Akashi is set to read for the week. Akashi then tells Furihata about his previous visit with Yukimaru, and then recites some new words he's recently memorized from his daily Dictionary reads – 'tyranny' being his current favorite. Furihata wonders vaguely whether he should be worried about that. Akashi also manages to debate his way into receiving yet another bowl of tofu soup from Furihata, saying that it is only fair since he's been picked up unwillingly. Furihata counts this as the seventh bowl this month. Akashi is just too good at getting what he wants.

Five minutes away from the house, Akashi perks up his head as though he's suddenly remembered something. "'Sei-kun'," he says, "Just now, back at the bus stop, you called me 'Sei-kun'. Twice."

Furihata nods, "Ah. Yes I did, didn't I?"

"You've never called me that before. You've always called me 'Seijuuro-kun'." Akashi's voice is very serious.

"E-eh? Do you mind it? I just think it's easier to say. And it's a cute nickname."

"Cute." Akashi repeats, blinking slowly.

"Ano... if you don't like it I won't call you that, ne?"

Akashi leans his neck to look at Furihata's bashful smile. He looks at Furihata's hair, the usually fluffy brown mess now flat and damp with rain. Then, Akashi looks at Furihata's raincoat which is wrapped around himself, covering him up so sufficiently that not a single drop of water is on him.

Akashi shakes his head.

"I don't mind it at all."

* * *

"Is that shogi?"

Furihata comes into Akashi's study room one day to find the boy sitting in front of a shogi board, appearing to be playing with himself. Furihata crawls over to sit next to him, watching in amazement as Akashi makes one strategic move after another.

"I am trying to improve so that I can win my bet with Father in a few days." Akashi explains as he moves the final piece to end the game.

"A bet?"

"Yes. If I win, I get to an extra visit with Yukimaru this week."

"And if you lose?"

"I won't." Akashi says confidently as he resets the board for the next game. "I _always_ win. Even if it is Father."

"I- I see," Furihata nods, slowly. It seems to be that even after a whole year with the Akashis, the strange dynamic of the Akashi-Father-Son relationship remains a mystery to him.

After Akashi is done resetting the shogi pieces, he stares down at the board for a moment before he turns to look at Furihata, considering him. Eventually, he nods. "Kouki."

"Yes, Sei-kun?"

"Play with me." Akashi motions towards the shogi board.

Furihata gapes and points at himself, "E-eh? Me?"

Nine shogi games later and Furihata has been beaten by Akashi – a child almost ten years younger than him, less than half his age – all nine times straight. Not to mention very quickly and easily every single time as well. It should've been more embarrassing, but Furihata sort of knew this is how it is going to turn out from the beginning.

"You're not very good at this, Kouki." Akashi observes as he beats Furihata in yet another game. "It's a given that I would win. But you make it too easy."

Furihata can only smile dryly, scratching the back of his head, "Ehh... your level is just way too high, Sei-kun. I'm nowhere near as amazing as you are."

Then, Akashi does something completely unexpected. In one striking movement, Akashi reaches over the shogi board and pinches Furihata's cheek sharply once with his small fingers.

"Ow-!" Furihata squeaks, because that just now actually _hurts –_ Akashi went full-force. He lifts a hand to cup his aching cheek. "W-what was that for?"

Akashi is glaring at him, "You always talk down about yourself. Stop it."

"But it's tru- ow, ow, ow-! I give up! I'm sorry! I won't do it anymore!" Furihata quickly says, frantically waving his hands in front of himself in mercy when Akashi starts pinching his other cheek even harder than the first time.

"Good." Akashi nods and retreats his hands, satisfied.

"Sei-kun is ruthless," Furihata puffs out his cheeks, massaging them with his palms.

Akashi crosses his arms, "I dislike it when you say negative things about yourself. I dislike it when you're blind to how inestimable you are."

"Inestimable?" Likely another Dictionary word of the week. Furihata tilts his head, confused.

"Invaluable." Akashi says, looking straight at Furihata with his intense red eyes. "Priceless. Precious-"

"I- I get it!" Furihata stutters, flustered by Akashi's words. "Please, t-that's enough. Thank you, Sei-kun, really. But you think too highly of me. I'm just an average-"

"Do you want me to pinch you again, Kouki?" Akashi narrows his eyes.

Furihata instantly shakes his head, "N-no, not at all."

"Good." Akashi says, and actually smiles a little this time. But not in the same way he does when he's with Yukimaru or when he had just downed a whole bowl of tofu soup. It is a smile of one who's had a taste of victory and knows exactly how he will achieve it again.

And Furihata goes home thinking, for the hundredth time ever since they met, that Akashi is terrifyingly intimidating for a child. Where did he learn to narrow his eyes like that anyways? Even Furihata cannot pull that off.

Still, it _is_ nice to know that Akashi thinks so highly of him. Furihata smiles to himself.

* * *

Akashi's first proper friend arrives in the form of a green-haired boy with matching green eyes, glasses, and long lashes that will likely be the envy of every girl in the world.

"Midorima Shintarou." The boy politely introduces himself to Furihata, giving him a perfectly-angled bow, not a centimeter deeper than necessary, before promptly returning to a heated chess game with Akashi.

Akashi tells Furihata that he had met Midorima on his first day in second grade at the same primary school. Apparently, the megane boy had caught Akashi's eye with his sharp intellect and the peculiar way he did everything with almost obsessive precision. Furihata watches them interact during the game and immediately understands why Akashi has taken a liking to him. Indeed, Midorima is very intelligent, so much so that he is almost on par with Akashi in their games. Of course, Akashi still wins every time – because _Akashi_ – but it is clear that Midorima offers him some challenge.

"What is that, by the way?" Furihata cannot help but notice the giant baby-pink stuffed alpaca sitting beside Midorima, the doll taller than Midorima himself.

"Alpacasso." Midorima says without looking away from the chess board. "He's my lucky item for today."

"Oh." Furihata says, because that is the only response he can come up with. And '_he'_? Furihata blinks at the little frilly ribbons tied onto the stuffed alpaca's ears doubtfully.

"Checkmate." Akashi says after moving his queen piece. He turns to look at Furihata, small lips quirked in an amused expression.

Midorima sighs, pushes his glasses up his small nose, and turns to glare at Alpacasso as if it is all his fault.

* * *

"I'm not surprised that you like Midorima-kun," Furihata says one day, after Midorima is picked up by his parents in the evening – both doctors, not to mention, big shock there – carrying back with him a basket full of rubber ducks. Midorima has been coming over to the Akashi mansion quite often and Furihata has had the privilege of seeing a strange and wide variety of 'lucky items' the green-haired megane boy brings with him each time.

"No?" Akashi tilts his head curiously. The two of them are sitting side by side on the couch, watching an animal planet documentary together.

"Not at all. He's very smart, and so is Sei-kun. Midorima-kun also doesn't speak more than necessary, which I know you like."

"Hm. It is fun playing chess and shogi with him."

Furihata smiles and nudges Akashi's shoulder teasingly, "It's more fun than playing against me, I'm sure."

"Kouki." Akashi turns his head away from the television screen to look at him, warningly.

"Uwah- don't pinch me!" Furihata raises a hand to cover his face in defense.

"You owe me one more bowl of tofu soup for next week, then."

"Hai, hai," Furihata nods easily, giving Akashi a playful salute before lowering his hand to pet Akashi's hair. He smiles as he thinks about how his mother now makes a huge bowl of tofu soup every week, knowing that the young master Akashi will request a serving one way or another.

They fall silent after that, attention on the documentary which is showing quite a graphic scene of an orca tossing and tearing apart some poor seal. Furihata is so engrossed in the images that he doesn't even notice when, half an hour later, Akashi sleepily leans his head against his shoulder.

"Kouki," Akashi calls out his name softly.

"Ah-" Furihata's focus breaks and he turns to Akashi, raising his eyebrows when he sees the boy leaning against him, though he says nothing of it. "What is it, Sei-kun?"

"I do quite like Shintarou. He is a much better opponent for strategy board games than you are," Akashi says flatly, eyes on the television screen.

Furihata's smile falters just the slightest bit, "Oh. O-of course, Midorima-kun is-"

"I haven't finished." Akashi cuts him off mid-sentence.

Furihata stays quiet.

"Even if Shintarou is a better challenge in games," Akashi's eyes flits up to meet Furihata's own, a dainty hand sneaking its way into Furihata's palm and intertwining their mismatched fingers. He squeezes Furihata's hand once, and continues, straight-faced, never breaking eye contact as he speaks, "Even so, I still like Kouki best."

A strange warmth blooms in Furihata's chest, and he can't help the wide, bright smile that splits his face.

"Seijuuro-kun," Furihata squeezes Akashi's small hand back amiably. Then, he leans over the smaller boy and plants an affectionate little kiss on top of Akashi's head. He murmurs, still smiling, "Thank you. I like Sei-kun a lot, too."

Akashi stares at Furihata for a long while after that, as though he is still ruminating over what Furihata had just said and done. Until eventually, he squeezes Furihata's hand back once again and they go back to watching the documentary – now sitting slightly closer than before.

Furihata's concentration returns to the screen, so absorbed right back into it that he completely misses Akashi's deep red eyes glancing back to him frequently throughout the duration of the documentary, sometimes even staring at his face for full minutes.

Furihata doesn't see Akashi looking at their linked hands, doesn't see Akashi's eyes, doesn't see the way Akashi looks at him.

* * *

In their second summer together, Furihata asks for permission to take Akashi to a fireworks festival at a nearby temple.

Seiko is over the moon to have her little boy experience some freedom and fun like other children and tells Furihata to leave it to her to convince Junichiro. When Furihata looks uncertain about that, Seiko taps his nose with a fan. "Don't you worry about it. I am his wife for a reason."

And so, on the evening of the festival day when Furihata arrives at the Akashi mansion to pick Akashi up, he is pleasantly surprised to see Akashi all dressed up and ready to go. Akashi is wearing a pure white yukata with light blue patterns, adorned with a crimson obi tied around his small waist. The color of the obi matches his hair and brings out his eyes and the hues in his plump cheeks, making Akashi look quite delightful.

"We match," Akashi points out as soon as he sees Furihata.

"E-eh?" Furihata looks down at his own yukata and lets out an 'ahh' sound when he sees that he is wearing a light blue yukata with red patterns along with a black obi. Their outfits actually look coordinated. "Ah! That's right – what a lovely coincidence!"

"A lovely coincidence." Akashi parrots, as he often does.

Furihata strokes Akashi's hair fondly, as he often does.

"Oh my, aren't you two just adorable?" Seiko appears from behind the door, holding a LOMO camera in her hands. "I need a photo of this. It's Seijuuro's first fireworks festival, after all."

"Ah- I can take a photo of Seiko-san with Seijuuro-kun if you want-" Furihata starts to say.

Seiko cuts him off, "Don't be silly, Furihata-kun. I'm not going to the festival and I'm not dressed up. Now, be a dear and go take a photo with Seijuuro."

They take a photo with Furihata crouching down to his knees next to Akashi so that they are of the same height, shoulder-to-shoulder. Akashi takes one look at the photograph and decides that he is pleased with it – so pleased that Akashi asks/demands to bring the camera with him to take more photos at the festival fair. Seiko agrees and goes to send the boys off at the front door, telling them not to be home too late and whispering to Furihata to take lots of photos of Akashi.

The festival is everything Akashi has read about and more. It is loud, eclectic, crowded, and so filled with energy that the atmosphere is warm around them. Akashi's round eyes survey everything around him with intrigue, whilst Furihata follows behind him quietly and enjoys seeing Akashi take everything in. It is almost like watching a wild animal being released into the jungle for the first time, the way Akashi approaches everything with equal caution and curiosity.

When the two of them reaches a part of the street which is particularly crowded, Furihata takes hold of Akashi's hand, leaning over to speak into his ears so that he can hear him over the crowd noise. "Wouldn't want Sei-kun getting lost in a crowd and scraping your knee again, now."

Akashi stares at their hands, then stares up into Furihata's kind brown eyes illuminated by both moonlight and many faerie lights hanging around the festival, and says nothing. He does, however, bring up the camera hanging around his neck with his free hand and snaps a photo of Furihata.

"H-huh? I wasn't ready!" Furihata blinks rapidly, stunned by the flash.

"I am aware," Akashi says, nonchalantly, as he slips the photograph into his kinchaku.

Furihata is half-dragged and half-tugged from store to store after that – Akashi taking full advantage of holding Furihata's hand by utilizing it as some sort of leash. Furihata can only trail behind him and take photos along the way. As it turns out, Akashi becomes particularly interested in game booths and ends up going on some sort of quest to win the biggest prize in every single game there is in the festival.

"Come, Kouki," Akashi says with that determined look flashing in his eyes.

Furihata shakes his head resignedly, having seen that look too many times before and knowing that it is futile to stop Akashi now.

An hour later and, as expected, Akashi has accomplished his mission. As a result, Furihata is struggling to carry an over-sized cream-colored doll which looks suspiciously like a tofu cube, five different Pokemon masks, a bag of about a dozen mini Shogun figurines, a basketball, four water-filled plastic bags – each with one fish swimming contently inside – and, lastly, Akashi's favourite out of all his prizes: a huge fluffy white stuffed unicorn _just_ small enough for Akashi to be able to carry without having its tail drag on the floor.

"Chibi-Yukimaru." Akashi entitles the unicorn with a satisfied nod.

Fortunately, a servant from the Akashi household comes to take all of Akashi's winnings off Furihata and back to the mansion before the fireworks display actually begins. Furihata then finds himself and Akashi a perfect little spot far away from the crowd where they can sit and watch the fireworks on a river bank. Akashi comments that the grass makes him itchy, so Furihata lets Akashi climb into his cross-legged-lap and sit there for the duration of the display.

"Beautiful," Akashi remarks after a particularly fancy explosion went off in the sky, sending multiple spirals in all directions. He shuffles in Furihata's lap and leans back against Furihata's torso to get more comfortable.

"Isn't it?" Furihata hums, lifting a hand to touch Akashi's soft hair absentmindedly.

Akashi lets him, and a gentle silence forms between them. The fireworks are still going off all the time, but the booms and the crackles sound distant now – like someone has turned down the volume on a video even though the pictures are still moving. Instead, their breaths, which are usually inaudible, sound even louder than the explosions going on before them. But it isn't uncomfortable, not at all.

By the time the display has ended, Akashi has already fallen fast asleep snuggled up to Furihata's chest.

Furihata chuckles at the adorable sight, before nudging Akashi gently, whispering, "Sei-kun, it's time to go home..."

Akashi's eyes flutter open slowly, like a butterfly testing its wings, and gaze up at Furihata, slightly perplexed. "Kouki?" He lifts his hands to rub at his eyes. "The fireworks ended?"

"Yes, just a few minutes ago. Shall we head back? Seiko-san is waiting for you."

"Very well." Akashi nods and wraps his arms around Furihata's neck. He then rests his head snugly upon Furihata's shoulder, closing his eyes.

"H-huh?" Furihata blinks, confused.

"I'm sleepy. I give you permission to carry me back home." Akashi says in an authoritative voice, without opening his eyes. And just like that, the boy's breathing slows again and he slips straight back into sleep. Just like that. It is almost like Akashi fully expects Furihata to comply to his demand without any question.

Which is fair enough, because that is exactly what Furihata does.

"Ah, really, Sei-kun," Furihata sighs even though he is smiling and his tone is clearly fond. He lifts Akashi up into his arms, a task which is becoming increasingly difficult as the days go by and Akashi grows both taller and heavier, and carries him in a reverse piggyback – their fronts facing each other, Akashi's legs wrapped around Furihata's waist and Furihata supporting Akashi's weight by hooking an arm under him.

Halfway back to the mansion, Akashi wakes up. However, he remains silent, not alerting the other. Instead, Akashi peeks open one eye to see Furihata carrying him back home, _exactly _as he expected. A wicked, satisfied little grin spreads across Akashi's lips.

Of course. Akashi is always right, after all.

Akashi decides to say nothing the rest of the way, even though he is fully awake. Partly because Akashi gets a strange thrill every time he tricks Furihata; partly because Akashi simply enjoys being held in Furihata's arms.

* * *

**A/N: **If you haven't figured it out yet, this fic is kind of a big ball of fluff. The M rated stuff comes _later _when Akashi is actually, you know, _legal _(AND has reached puberty)_, _you cheeky hentais. For those who are impatient, there will probably be just one more chapter of child!Akashi. Thanks for reading this, everyone :) I'll try to update weekly!

ps. Alpacasso is a real stuffed-toy you can find, by the way. Google it.


	3. Never Gonna Leave This Bed

**Chapter 3: Never Gonna Leave This Bed**

**Summary:** In which Akashi sees Furihata's tears, and doesn't.

* * *

Furihata is in trouble.

"Where were you last Friday?"

Akashi isn't even looking at him and Furihata already feels chills all over his skin.

In over two years that Furihata has spent with Akashi, Furihata has never missed a day without telling Akashi beforehand. He will always turn up every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evening without fail – and if not, then Akashi would've been informed of his absence at least two days prior.

But this past Friday, Furihata just _disappeared_. There were no warnings, not even the slightest hint of one, nothing; until half an hour past their usual meeting time when the Akashi household received a phone call telling them that Furihata would not be coming. Akashi, who had been waiting by the piano with newly-printed Yiruma scores, had crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes dangerously when he heard the news. He was not impressed. _At all. _How _dare,_ Kouki.

Which is why on Monday, when Furihata finally shows up, Akashi doesn't spare him a glance. Not even one single look since Furihata has stepped through the door. Akashi's eyes are fixated on an open book on his desk, refusing to acknowledge Furihata's presence with anything but his voice.

"So? Where were you?" Akashi's voice is flat, toneless, disinterested as he flips a page of the book with one precise movement of his index finger.

"U-um, I'm really sorry about that, Seijuuro-kun," Furihata dips his body in a small bow, "I was really sick last Friday so I couldn't come see you."

Akashi's eyes slowly flit up to look at him. "You were... sick?"

"Y-yes, with the flu – and I didn't want to pass it to Sei-kun, too, you see."

A very reasonable explanation. Which, honestly, Akashi rather expected because, of course, Furihata wouldn't just skip out on him without good reason. However, it being a good reason also means that Akashi can't really be mad at Furihata now, either. Hence, Akashi is left hanging in a strange limbo of still feeling quite annoyed that Furihata didn't come see him, whilst on the other hand, feeling like he doesn't really have a legitimate reason to _be_ annoyed. After all, part of the reason Furihata didn't turn up was for Akashi's own health and safety. Also, can he really blame Furihata for being unwell? It's not like Furihata _wanted_ to get the flu. Being petulant about the entire ordeal is hardly appropriate.

And yet, Akashi is petulant.

He closes his book and crosses his arms, "I sat by the piano for thirty minutes waiting for your arrival."

"Ah- I'm really very sorry about that! I s-should've asked Mama to call earlier." Furihata bows deeper, guiltily.

"Yes, you should have."

"Ano... I'll make it up to you?" Furihata suggests, hopeful. In his mind, he is already picturing a huge pot of tofu soup and figuring how he's going to bring it over.

Akashi uncrosses his arms, a satisfied look on his unsmiling face. "Very well. You'll stay over tonight."

"Oka- e-eh?" Furihata blinks rapidly. This, he did not expect. "Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight. To make up for the time you missed last Friday."

"For the time I missed?"

"Yes," Akashi frowns. "I believe I am speaking clearly. Is there a problem, Kouki?"

Furihata scratches his head uncertainly, "Um- but I have to ask Mama first, tomorrow is a school day..."

"Then call her."

"O-okay. But, Sei-kun, your parents-"

"They won't mind." He says with unwavering confidence.

"And, um, w-where will I sleep?"

"My bedroom." Akashi says, like it's the most obvious thing.

"Wha- huh?" Furihata is gaping like a goldfish.

Akashi sighs. "My bedroom, Kouki. You're making me repeat myself an awful lot today."

"I- I'm sorry," Furihata murmurs, still not quite grasping the whole idea of this sudden surprise sleepover. Even though Furihata spends a lot of time with Akashi, he has never actually spent an entire night with him – at the Akashi mansion or otherwise. That is not the issue here, though. Furihata is perfectly comfortable spending extra time with Akashi; the only thing that bothers him is that he may be disturbing or troubling the Akashi household.

"Don't concern yourself over irrelevant matters," Akashi says when he sees Furihata fidgeting – it is almost like Akashi can read his mind. "Call your Mama. I will talk to her and explain the situation."

"A-alright," Furihata simply does as he's told. He has long since gotten used to taking orders from this little redheaded child who is less than half his age and size. It doesn't even feel unnatural anymore – and if Furihata is honest, it never really felt unnatural from the beginning. Some people just have that commanding air about them; those who are born to lead. Add to that a dangerously sharp mind with an impeccable ability to read people and you get one very intimidating Akashi Seijuuro.

It is only expected that Akashi gets what he wants. Always.

Thus, Furihata is not at all surprised when his mother is more than happy to let him stay over after only a few minutes of conversation with Akashi. Furihata can almost hear his mother's heart melting for 'young master Akashi', the little charmer prattling off until Mrs Furihata is literally offering to make him his favorite tofu soup everyday. Furihata makes a note to warn his mother not to spoil Akashi too much. Lord knows Akashi already gets plenty of that from just about everyone, Furihata included.

* * *

Akashi is the type of child who stares a lot.

To be fair, Akashi probably doesn't mean to stare. It is likely that Akashi just likes observing things in detail, which is why he looks at things for extended periods of time. Unfortunately, the boy was born with these large, round, deep crimson eyes which are so intense his mere looks become fixated, soul-piercing stares. Furihata is used to them to a certain extent – partly because he's oblivious to them more often than not – but sometimes, it's really hard to ignore.

Especially when Akashi is sitting right in front of him, their faces only a stretch of a hand away from each other, those demonic eyes boring right into him.

"Kouki looks different in pajamas."

"Eh? D-do I?"

They were both sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing each other. In Furihata's hand is a small towel which he is using to wipe Akashi's still-damp hair from the shower.

Akashi nods, "You look softer."

"Softer?"

"Milder. It is difficult to explain."

Akashi can most likely spend the whole ten minutes discussing with Furihata about how his hair looks fluffier right after it's been washed; how Furihata's face seem brighter and yet his eyes seem larger and deeper in the moonlight; how Furihata's skin, more exposed now in just a plain t-shirt and boxers than Akashi has ever seen before, is unexpectedly quite smooth and supple for someone who plays sports. The only things not so soft about Furihata's flesh are the tiny little hardened patches of skin on his palm.

Akashi grabs hold of one of Furihata's wrist and pulls his hand towards him for closer inspection. Gingerly, he runs his fingertip over a spot, his eyes flitting up to Furihata curiously.

"Calluses," Furihata explains, and continues with a beaming smile. "I got them from basketball practices."

Akashi blinks, "You seem proud."

"I am. They're almost like- battle scars. Evidence that I've worked hard."

"How unnecessarily cruel for a sport to ruin your hands like this." Akashi says, frowning down at Furihata's palm.

Furihata only chuckles, "I'm not a girl. I don't need to keep my hands soft for some guy to hold."

"You can keep them soft for me, then."

"Huh?"

Now it's Furihata's turn to stare at Akashi, not really understanding what the boy meant by that. He can't possibly mean what Furihata is thinking, right? Despite all his quirks making him seem much more mature than his age, Akashi is still only a child. Considering that, it's unlikely that he would-

"Kouki. My hair is dry enough." Akashi suddenly says, interrupting Furihata's thoughts.

"Ah- that's right. Are you sleepy, Sei-kun? It's past your bedtime, we should turn off the lights."

"Go ahead."

Furihata switches off the lights, instantly swallowing the room in darkness. Furihata fumbles his way back to the bed before slipping under the duvet next to Akashi. Akashi's bed is king-sized – of course it is – and easily accommodates two people. Furihata had offered to sleep on the floor earlier in the night but Akashi simply told him not to be ridiculous and that his bed is perfectly suitable for fitting two people comfortably.

"It would be more of a hassle to get out a futon," Akashi had said – and Furihata had no more arguments to make after that.

As soon as Furihata settles under the duvet, Akashi rolls towards him and lies on his side right next to him, close enough that they'll touch if either one moves, but no skin contact is actually made. Not yet.

"You smell good." Akashi comments, his little nose twitching like a bunny.

"Eh? Thank you. I just used Sei-kun's soap and shampoo, though."

"It's not the same on you."

"Really?" Furihata tugs up his own t-shirt to take a sniff. He can't smell anything at all. "Hm. I wonder."

"What?"

"One second-"

What happens next occurs really quickly, a matter of seconds, but to Akashi it feels like minutes – every minuscule moment stretching out.

Furihata edges closer and touches the back of Akashi's head with one hand, before he leans over and buries the tip of his nose in Akashi's hair. He inhales, slowly, before he retreats with a satisfied hum.

"Hmm. I think Sei-kun smells much nicer."

Akashi is as still as stone. Completely unmoving. If the room is just the slightest bit lighter then Furihata will have seen Akashi's red eyes wide and bewildered – unblinking as he lay there, actually properly staring at Furihata, as motionless as a doll.

"Sei-kun?" Furihata calls out softly, curiously, when Akashi goes silent. "Have you fallen asleep already?"

Akashi remains quiet, though he does move.

"Eh..?" Furihata blinks, surprised when he feels a soft body curling up against him.

"I'm still awake." Akashi mumbles on Furihata's shirt.

Furihata cannot help the wide, delightful smile that pops up on his face knowing that Akashi has moved closer to him intentionally. Generally, it's already quite cute when children do these kinds of things – but it is that much more adorable when someone like _Akashi_ does it. Akashi – the genius child, the perfectionist, the soon-to-be prodigy – _that_ Akashi Seijuuro is snuggling up to him, the ever-ordinary Furihata Kouki, out of all people. And it makes Furihata feel like it is a privilege, an honor of some sort, to be holding Akashi like this – it makes Furihata feel oddly _special_.

"Sei-kun can be quite sweet, too, ne?" Furihata giggles, giddy as he wraps Akashi in closer, folding the smaller boy right into himself. "_Kawaii_."

"_Kouki_." Akashi spikes a hand straight up like a spear to Furihata's face, locking in on his cheek and pinching it hard.

"Uwah-! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Furihata says quickly, though an amused grin remains on his face. He is lucky it is dark or else Akashi will likely pinch him until the grin is wiped clear off.

Akashi gives Furihata's cheek one last gentle warning pat, before droping his hand and winding it around Furihata's neck instead. He is surrounded by the scent of Furihata, the warmth of his body coaxing Akashi into closing his eyes.

"'Night, Sei-kun," Furihata whispers softly next to his ears.

Then, another gentle touch on the crown of Akashi's head which he now recognizes as Furihata's kiss.

"Goodnight, Kouki."

But Akashi doesn't sleep. Not until a while later after Furihata's breathing had slowed, telling Akashi that he had slipped into a soundless slumber. Akashi then takes the time to observe Furihata closely, thoroughly; his features whilst he slept, lips slightly parted, the way his eyelashes get crushed by the pillow – a pity, Akashi thought. The boy then reaches his hand back up to Furihata's face again and pinches his cheek, ever so gently this time, much more a squeeze than a pinch. Despite this, Akashi's face shows no emotion; even as he runs a small thumb pad along Furihata's cheekbone.

Akashi never tells Furihata that he chooses to 'punish' Furihata by pinching because it gives Akashi an excuse to touch Furihata's exceptionally soft cheeks.

* * *

Six times Furihata sleeps over at the Akashi mansion, they wake up to a bright morning. Clear skies greeting them with the sun shining through the window. Akashi usually wakes up first, being a light sleeper, and spends the rest of the time in bed just staring at Furihata, usually still in his arms, watching him awaken as each ray of sun hits his eyelids.

The seventh time, it rains. And Akashi does not wake up first.

"Kouki...?" Akashi murmurs when he reaches out and finds an empty space next to him on the bed.

The lights are still off and the dark stormy skies are not helping, but Akashi easily spots Furihata. He is sitting in the corner of the room, knees hugged to his chest with his head tucked. In his hand, he is gripping his mobile phone so tightly his knuckles are white.

Akashi immediately knew something isn't right. He slips out of bed and waddles over in his too-long yukata, resting one small hand on Furihata's own. "Kouki? What's the matter?"

Furihata slowly lifts his head to look at Akashi, and the boy is taken aback by his blood-shot eyes. His eyelids are swollen and his eyes seem sunken in, surrounded by dark circles making him look like he's exhausted to the point of collapsing. Akashi has never seen Furihata looking like this. Ever.

"Kouki? Talk to me." Akashi is confused and, if he is honest, feeling slightly alarmed. Last night, Furihata seemed completely fine when he tucked Akashi into bed and cuddled him – they don't talk about it, it just happens every time Furihata stays over – warm and kind as usual. The contrast between then and now is overwhelming.

"S-Sei-kun," Furihata says weakly, shaking his head. His voice cracks a little as he utters the next word, "Mama..."

Akashi feels his heart sink. He grips Furihata's hand tighter, "Your Mama? What happened?"

"She- she went out to the market and- and then there was a c-car, and-" Furihata's voice is shaking. His whole body is, too.

Panic rises in Akashi's chest. "No."

Furihata is rocking in his seat now, trying to calm the terror in himself. "No, no. She's in h-hospital. They- they said she's going into surgery. But she should be fine. That's what they said. They said she's going to be alright, so she would be, wouldn't she? The surgery has a high chance of success, they said, so she'll be fine, right? So I should think p-positive. I shouldn't be so w-worried, ne?"

Akashi doesn't know what to say. He wants to say something to console Furihata, but nothing that comes up seems appropriate. He can't tell him it will be fine, because he doesn't know that. He can't tell him he understands, because Akashi's never been in the same situation before. And the last thing Akashi will say is 'it's okay', because it clearly isn't. So Akashi doesn't say anything. Instead, he takes Furihata's hands in his own and holds them firmly, squeezing his palms with his own smaller hands.

That one little action seems to trigger something in Furihata, and his face crumbles slowly. "Sei-kun," His voice breaks, "I'm scared."

Then, Furihata fully breaks down crying. It is one of the most heart-wrenching things Akashi has ever seen. Furihata sobs loudly – just like a child – his breaths heaving, hiccuping, hot fresh tears streaming down both his cheeks. His entire body is quivering like a leaf, the fear _physically_ shaking him. Some teardrops fall on Akashi's hands, but it doesn't bother him. Not at all.

Akashi can do nothing but sit there silently and hold Furihata's hands tight, squeezing them hard and clutching them close to stop them from trembling.

* * *

A whole week after that day, Furihata doesn't come to the Akashi mansion at all, spending time at the hospital looking after his mother. The Akashi family sends her a bouquet wishing her well. Akashi, meanwhile, drowns himself in books and even learns how to play the violin to kill time. And yet, Akashi finds himself strangely... bored. Everything just seems so _dull. _

No one to play little tricks and pranks on. No one to tease about their not up to par shogi skills. No one bringing him his favourite tofu soup. No one to listen to him talk about absolutely anything and actually _listen_. No round brown eyes and callused but gentle hands petting his hair. No soft cheeks to pinch.

Akashi sighs and taps his finger on the chess board impatiently.

"Am I boring you?" Midorima Shintaro, sitting opposite him, inquires as he moves a chess piece.

"No." Akashi replies quickly, moving his own piece.

"You've sighed at least five times since I've been here."

"Have I? I didn't notice."

"You're also playing with much less tact."

Akashi narrows his eyes. "I still win."

"Of course." Midorima says easily. "But you're distracted."

"Is that so," Akashi says, disinterestedly.

Midorima notices that something is off but decides not to say anything more on the subject.

When Midorima is heading home – wearing cat paws, his lucky item – Akashi goes to send him off at the door, only to spot a certain brown-haired boy he's been wondering about all week.

"Kouki?"

Furihata waves from the gate and jogs up to him. "Sei-kun! Mama just got out of the hospital today so I came to tell you I'll be back to see you starting next week. Thank you for the flowers, too. They were beautiful, Mama really liked them."

"You're welcome," Akashi nods, "I'm glad she's well."

"Me too." Furihata smiles widely – that dumb, naïve smile that Akashi remembers well right back on his face. No more tears.

And Akashi feels relieved and doesn't quite understand why.

* * *

Akashi is generally an impeccably healthy child, so it takes Furihata almost three years to eventually encounter a sick Akashi.

Furihata walks into Akashi's bedroom to find him tucked under a duvet, face red, forehead sweaty. He is panting audibly, breaths coming out heavy and short. Furihata steps closer to rest the back of his hand on Akashi's forehead and frowns when he feels how hot it is. Immediately, Furihata fusses around finding a bucket of water and a small towel to start wiping Akashi's body to bring down his fever.

"Kouki...?" Akashi breathes out weakly when his eyes slit open tiredly and sees a fading vision of fluffy brown hair moving before him. Akashi then turns to his side to cough into his own hands, his throat croaking.

"Yes, Sei-kun, I'm here," Furihata murmurs, bringing a cup of water to Akashi's lips and helping lift his head up so that he can drink it.

Akashi sighs after he takes one sip and lies back down, closing his eyes, allowing Furihata to continue rubbing the wet towel down his neck and arms. When Furihata reaches his hand, Akashi finds Furihata's palm and squeezes.

Furihata pauses momentarily, looking at Akashi with softened eyes, before squeezing his hand back firmly. A silent communication between them.

* * *

Seiko returns home from a business trip the evening of the following day. Junichiro is not with her, still tied up in meetings over in London. She goes to her son's bedroom first, concerned for his health, only to sigh in relief when she sees Furihata there, kneeling on the floor by Akashi's bed.

Furihata is just finishing changing a coolpack for Akashi. He neatly wraps a fresh one in a towel and places it on Akashi's forehead, before turns to see Seiko and dips his head in a polite bow.

"Furihata-kun, isn't it your day off?" Seiko closes the door behind her, coming over to sit on Akashi's bed next to her sleeping son. "How is he?"

"Ah, yes, ma'am. But I just can't leave Sei-kun all alone when he's this unwell." Furihata says, pulling the duvet over Akashi's shoulder where it has slipped down. "His fever's gone down a lot from yesterday, and the coughing's improving."

Seiko smiles when she sees the genuine warmth in Furihata's eyes as he watches over Akashi. "Thank you. Junichiro and I are very grateful for all your help."

"Oh, no, Seiko-san. It's the least I can do, really." Furihata shakes his head humbly.

"No, Furihata-kun. I mean, for everything you've done for Seijuuro. He's been a lot livelier since you came along. He even smiles more, nowadays." Seiko giggles a little at this, walking over to Akashi to run the back of her hand on Akashi's face affectionately. "He's definitely not the easiest child to be around."

"Sei-kun is delightful," Furihata says instantly, beaming, "He's particular, but I think that's a side effect of him being so intelligent."

"Yes." She nods, "You make him happier, I think."

"Ah- t-thank you very much, Seiko-san." Furihata bows a little again, "I actually really enjoy spending time with him, too."

Seiko's eyes glance from Furihata to Akashi, then back to Furihata again. "So," she begins, slowly, her tone of voice becoming more serious. "When are you planning to go off to university, again?"

Furihata's smile falters, and instead, becomes a little sad.

"In two weeks, ma'am."

"Kobe University, was it? Congratulations again."

"Ah, t-thank you."

Seiko turns to her son, her voice softening. "Have you told Seijuuro?"

Furihata shakes his head, "Ano... I planned to tell him yesterday, but with his current sickness I didn't think it was the right time."

"Hm," Seiko strokes Akashi's hair gently, careful not to wake him. "I can't imagine he'll take it well, no matter when you decide to tell him."

Furihata has nothing to say to that, so he just sits there quietly.

"Alright, I have to go unpack," Seiko stands up. "If you need anything, you know where to call the servants."

"H-hai."

Once Seiko exits through the door, the room falls silent. Furihata exhales slowly, thinking about the very near future, leaning his head back on Akashi's bed.

"Kobe?"

Akashi's throaty, quiet murmur cuts through the silence like a knife.

"...!" Furihata immediately turns around and gapes, eyes wide, when he sees two intense red orbs staring straight back at him. "S-Sei-kun, you were awake?"

"As you are aware, I'm a light sleeper." Akashi's face is controlled, completely expressionless. "Or did you forget that with all your exciting plans for the future?"

Furihata rolled in his lips, "I- I was planning to tell you-"

"Two weeks before you leave. Yes."

"I-it's not like I'll be gone forever. I'll be back for Christmas and summer and-"

"But you're _still leaving me-_" Akashi's voice goes harder, and it makes him cough. He sits up and coughs harshly into the duvet, his whole body heaving.

"Sei-kun..." Furihata reaches out a hand to stroke Akashi's back.

"_No._" Akashi shrinks away from his hand violently as though he's been burned. He scoots all the way to the corner of his bed, as far away from Furihata as possible, his crimson eyes flaring.

Furihata doesn't try to go closer to him again. He knows better than that after seeing Akashi's eyes ablaze. Akashi is akin to a wild injured animal right now, and Furihata is the one who harmed him. He pulls his hand back to his lap, ruefully. "I'm sorry, Sei-kun."

Akashi says nothing.

Furihata bows his head, "I promise I'll come see you every time I'm back home. And I can call, if you want, we can always talk on the phone-"

"Don't," Akashi says, his eyes hard.

Furihata lifts his head to look at him, hoping Akashi doesn't mean what he thinks he does. "'Don't'?"

"Don't call. Don't come see me. If you leave me, don't bother doing any of that."

"Sei-kun..." Furihata says weakly.

Akashi glares at Furihata one last time before he turns his entire body to face the wall, wrapped up in his duvet like a cocoon, blocking Furihata away from him.

"Leave, Kouki. You're dismissed."

Furihata nods solemnly, knowing any efforts will be futile now. He gathers his things and makes his way to the door.

"Also, don't bother coming tomorrow."

"E-eh?"

"Or any day after." Akashi says, voice tight, still facing the wall. "You're leaving me in two weeks, anyways. Might as well just do it now."

"Sei-kun-!" Furihata shakes his head, shocked.

"_I mean it_." Akashi's tone is final.

Furihata bites his lips and exits, not forgetting to bow politely beforehand, bitter as he is. He shuts the door behind himself and leans against it heavily, tilting his head up. He blinks away his tears, feeling as though Akashi has just stabbed him.

Back inside the room, Akashi curls up into a tight ball on the bed with his hands clenched, feeling exactly the same.

* * *

**A/N:** Next chapter will be a teeeeeny tiny bit more of child!Akashi and then, finally, the grown-up Akashi's arrival.

Thank you for all your reviews, favourites and follows! I love reading about what you all think of this story, and I'm really excited for what's coming up. See you next chapter! :)


	4. Back To You

**A/N:** Oh dear. Y'all thought that was how they parted. Well... not quite. I did say there's gonna be a teeny tiny bit more of child!Akashi in this chapter. ^^

* * *

**Chapter 4: Back To You**

**Summary:** In which time flies.

* * *

The day Furihata leaves for Kobe, he gets an unexpected visitor.

Furihata has woken up early to make himself a bento for the train ride. Then, just as Furihata is stuffing everything into the lunch box, he damn near has a heart attack when he looks up to the window to find a pair of large, unblinking crimson eyes staring directly back at him. It could've been something out of a horror film, only that it isn't.

"S-Sei-kun?!"

Furihata immediately rushes outside to find, indeed, Akashi Seijuuro in the flesh. The boy is standing on a crate so that he can peek through the kitchen window, being _just_ tall enough for the top half of his face to be higher than the window sill.

"Kouki," When Akashi sees Furihata, he nods at him as per usual. As though the last two weeks of them not seeing each other never even happened.

"Sei-kun, w-what are you doing here?" Furihata is in disbelief. "H-How long have you been standing outside?"

"A while."

"Why didn't you ring the doorbell?"

Akashi frowns. Then, reluctantly, he admits, "I couldn't reach the buzzer."

"O-oh." Of course not. Not that Furihata will ever say that out loud.

"Also, the crates are too heavy for carriage. I figured it is best to wait by the window until someone spots me."

"Oh."

Furihata doesn't know whether to be more amused or impressed.

He brings Akashi into the house, feeding him tamago dofu – not as good as tofu soup, but it'll do – and a cup of warm milk as Furihata finishes packing his bento. Furihata then takes Akashi to his bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Akashi instantly makes himself at home, plopping down on Furihata's bed like he owns it. Typical. From there, Akashi spots two large luggages across the room. Furihata watches as Akashi's face changes – those wide, deep-set red eyes narrowing just the slightest bit. Unnoticeable by most, but Furihata has known Akashi for nearly three whole years.

"You knew I was leaving today," Furihata begins, sitting down on the bed.

Akashi only stares at him. "You can't go. I won't allow it."

"Sei-kun," He shakes his head. "It's for my future."

"You can continue working for my family. University is not so necessary when you already have a job."

"I can't be a caretaker forever. What am I going to do when Sei-kun grows up?"

"Then I shall take care of you myself."

Furihata sighs. "It's not that simple."

Akashi narrows his eyes, "You think I am not capable?"

"I don't doubt that you are, but I don't want that. I- I want to be able to stand on my own two feet. Earn my own income."

"So I'll pay. You can consider it your salary."

"T-that's not the point."

"I don't comprehend what the problem is."

Furihata doesn't know how to explain it to him either, so he remains quiet.

Akashi frowns, those two little red brows knotting together. "Why are you so intent on leaving me, Kouki?"

"I-it's not that I _want_ to leave you, Sei-kun. It's just-"

"But you are. Leaving."

"It's only temporarily. Every holiday-"

Akashi cuts him off sharply, "Several _months_ without seeing you is not 'temporary' for me."

Furihata doesn't have anything to say to that. He looks down at his fingers, a feeling of guilt welling up.

Silence falls between them; Akashi still staring at Furihata intensely, whilst Furihata refuses to meet his eyes. They are sitting less than a meter away from each other, and yet the distance between them seems much further apart. Furihata might as well be in Kobe.

Then, out of the blue, Akashi reaches out and touches Furihata's hand. In that instant, all the metaphorical distance between them shrinks back until it is no more than the physical distance.

"Kouki." He says, and squeezes.

Again, their silent communication. Furihata is constantly amazed by how Akashi knows ways to speak to him without words – and yet, he never realizes that Akashi is equally impressed by how Furihata understands him when no one else can.

And right now, Furihata knows Akashi is telling him: 'Stay.'

"I don't want to leave, either." Furihata takes Akashi's smaller hand into his palm and squeezes back.

"Then don't." Akashi's voice is softer even when his eyes are piercing into Furihata's, his gaze fierce enough to make him shiver.

Furihata starts to shake his head again, "Sei-kun, you know I-"

"I want you to stay."

"I-I know, and I do, too, but-" Furihata holds his hand tight, "I can't."

"Yes, you can." Akashi is persistent.

"I'm sorry, Sei-kun."

Furihata cannot do anything but wrap his arms around Akashi, hugging him close and hoping it is enough to let Akashi know that this is hardly easy for him, either. Furihata then strokes Akashi's hair, just as he always does, and Akashi goes completely stiff. He grabs on tight to Furihata's shirt with his free hand, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quiet in a way that is so unlike Akashi that it goes straight to Furihata's heart.

"_Don't go, Kouki_."

Furihata chokes up. How is he supposed to leave Akashi here now when he sounds so excruciatingly _lonely_?

Tears brim up in Furihata's eyes and he clutches on to Akashi, his body tense. Akashi doesn't understand what is happening until Furihata's breath hitches and he senses small drops of water starting to dampen the shoulder of his yukata. Akashi's frown deepens, because it was never his intention to make Furihata cry – never _ever_ – especially not because of him.

Akashi reaches one short arm up to pat Furihata's hair in what is supposed to comfort him, but that only makes Furihata weep harder, and Akashi falls rigid, not knowing what to do.

"I-I'll miss you, Sei-kun," Furihata whispers, sniffing – and he will. Akashi has grown on him tremendously in the past three years, and before he knew it, Furihata starts looking forward to heading over to the Akashi mansion, waiting for the days he gets to see Akashi. Akashi is special – the way he talks, the way he thinks, the way he sees things – and Furihata is intrigued by him; fascinated by his intelligence, captured by his rare smiles. "I r-really will miss you."

Akashi doesn't know why, but hearing Furihata say that makes his chest hurt.

They stay like that until it is time for Furihata to go catch his train; Furihata a teary, swollen-eyed mess when he releases Akashi from his arms. Akashi doesn't want to let him go, but he does. He wants to say something to stop Furihata from leaving, but he doesn't. He just stands there, silently watching as Furihata takes his bags and go off in the taxi, waving at Akashi as the car leaves, those warm brown eyes watery all over again.

Akashi doesn't wave back, and he doesn't cry. He just stares straight at Furihata, burning those eyes into his memory.

It isn't until Akashi is back in his own bedroom at the mansion, photos he took with Furihata spread out on the bed, that it hits him that Furihata is actually gone.

Akashi curls up in his duvet and hides his face in his yukata – still with Furihata's scent clinging on – and convinces himself that the yukata is only damp from Furihata's tears.

* * *

_'Young men's love lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.' - Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare._

* * *

Akashi Seijuuro is an incredible young man.

Top of his class with excellency in all areas, he is the pride and joy of Rakuzan High. Since his first year, Akashi has been president of the student council, captain of the basketball team, and champion of the strategy boardgames club. Number one with perfect scores in all subjects, Akashi has no known weakness. He knows only strength, only brilliance, only _victory._

The Rakuzan girls call him the 'Flawless Prince'. It is certainly not an overstatement. Akashi – with his abundance in wealth, talent, power, intelligence, leadership skills, physical athleticism, and good looks – is definitely an attractive package; _the_ tremendous catch of their generation. Of course, this is hardly surprising. He's an _Akashi_, for goodness' sake. Not to mention, Akashi has impeccable manners and etiquette, and he is _charming_; all polite speech and serene smiles_. _Smooth as butter, he is capable of anything and everything without even a single blink of hesitation. It is no wonder women of all age and size fall at his feet; drawn to him like moths to a flame.

Little do they know that Akashi Seijuuro is also terrifying.

_'Since I always win, I'm always right. If you oppose me... I'll kill you, no matter who you are.'_

_'No one that opposes me is allowed to look down on me.'_

_'My orders are absolute.'_

_'Know your place.'_

Akashi Seijuuro is a tyrant.

Granted, he has gradually become less oppressive in the past two years. Spending time with his teammates from Teikou Junior High aided the dilution process. However, as with a knife, it doesn't matter how much you blunt the blade. A knife is a knife – with enough force, it is still dangerous, still capable of serious harm.

"Akashicchi, you have _got_ to stop staring at people like that."

"I am not staring."

"Whatever it is, it's creepy! Akashicchi, honestly, it looks like you're about to murder someone!"

"Your point being?"

"Well, it's not very nice."

"I appreciate your concern, Ryouta, but it is unnecessary. I am presently not on the verge of murder. Or killing, for that matter. There is a difference."

"...right."

Model, basketball prodigy, and blonde – throw these three categories and their respective stereotypes together, plus a dash of golden retriever puppy-like personality, and we get one Kise Ryouta in all his _ikemen _pretty-boy sparkly glory.

"You were saying?"

"Ah, right! About the reunion trip. Since Kurokocchi is bringing Kagamicchi, Murasakicchi wants to bring Himuro-san, too, and he is very insistent."

"As to be expected." Akashi nods. "I have predicted they would stay in contact even after Tatsuya graduated."

"I know, right? It's like they're attach at the hip! It's cute, heh. Speaking of which, Midorimacchi wants to bring Takao-kun, of course, even if he doesn't say, but we _all_ know he does."

"Of course." Akashi nods, simply.

"So, Aominecchi and Momoicchi is fine with, you know, everyone tagging someone along, and they sent me here to ask whether you're okay with it too?"

Akashi raises a brow. "Why wouldn't I be? I have completely come to terms with the fact that all of you have branched out and formed stable relationships with teammates from your respective schools. It is paramount to your team's success, after all. I have no issue with anyone bringing along whoever they wish to."

"Ehh, but wouldn't it make you uncomfortable, Akashicchi?"

"Not at all. In fact, I am supportive of your friendships. I would invite someone from Rakuzan, too, but I'm afraid they are preoccupied."

"'...ah." Kise smiles dryly. It is only then, after two long years, that Kise realizes that Akashi doesn't _get it. _

For all his genius in everything else, Akashi can be astoundingly oblivious to what is going on right before his eyes. Sure, Akashi notices the excessive intimacy between, say, Kuroko and Kagami, but Akashi doesn't interpret it as anything else beyond a completely pure, respectable strong bond between teammates. It is as though Akashi has never even considered the possibility of it being anything else. Kise has to wonder how Akashi's mind works; how is it possible to be so sharp, and yet so naïve? And why did no one ever take the time to tell Akashi any different? But then again, Kise didn't, either. "'Friendships', huh..."

"What was that?" Akashi inquires, though his eyes remain on the sudoku squares in his hand.

"Oh! Nothing, nothing at all! I was just, um, thinking about our trip. You know, um, how much fun we'll all have at Kinosaki, the onsens, seeing everybody... y'know?"

Akashi does turn to face Kise this time, giving him a _look_. "Ryouta, you are a terrible liar. You will never fool any common person, let alone me."

"Ehh? Akashicchi, I wasn't lying!"

"It is alright. If it's of enough importance, I assume I will be informed, eventually." Akashi waves it off, going back to his sudoku.

Kise can only chuckle nervously, super glad that Akashi doesn't push it, because boy, he does _not _want to be the one to enlighten their previous captain what _all _his ex-teammates, including the blonde himself, have _really_ been up to.

Kise cannot even imagine what Akashi's reaction will be.

* * *

Furihata Kouki is an elementary school teacher.

It isn't much of a surprise to anyone who knows him, really. Furihata has always been very good with children, and he likes taking care of them. Not to mention children absolutely adore him. Apparently, there is some kind of 'special touch' which makes the young ones flock towards him.

"Furi-sensei! Makoto-kun stole my backpack!"

"I didn't steal! You were just stupid enough to drop it, baka."

"Don't call me that!"

"Baka, baka, bakaaa-"

"Now, now, that's not how you should be treating a girl, Makoto-kun." Furihata swoops in between the squabbling children, placing himself as a barrier between sweet little Ami who looks on the verge of tears and the troublemaker Makoto, who is sticking his tongue out at her.

"Her? A girl? Please." Makoto sneers.

"HEY!" Ami glares at him.

Furihata sighs. Oh, fifth-grade drama. Give it another five or six years and Furihata can bet these two will at some point consider dating each other. Children are funny like that.

"Alright, time to give Ami-chan back her bag, ne?" Furihata taps Makoto on his shoulder.

"It's her fault she dropped it in the first place! She should be thanking me that I picked it up!" Makoto huffs.

"Why would I thank you for stealing my things!" Ami screeches back.

"Ooo-kay, enough, you two." Furihata pulls them apart. "Makoto-kun, I'm only going ask you one more time. Please give Ami-chan back her bag? I know you don't really want to steal it, do you?"

"Tch- fine!"

Makoto reluctantly pushes the backpack back into Ami's arms, who snatches it from him and grins smugly. Makoto scowls and crosses his arms, turning his face away petulantly.

Furihata nods. "And, Ami-chan, you should give Makoto-kun your thanks for picking up the bag you dropped."

"Ehh? Furi-sensei!" Ami wails in protest.

"Come on, now. Be a good girl." Furihata ushers the girl towards Makoto encouragingly.

Ami clutches her bag close to her and mumbles, "T-thanks, I guess."

Furihata smiles when the conflict is resolved and sends the two off to join their friends in their respective rooms at the ryokan. He watches them run along together and exhales, tiredly running his hand through his hair and sitting down on a lobby bench. It is only the first day of the field trip and already there have been at least three disputes between the children.

"It's going to be a long five days, huh." Someone sits down next to him.

"Ah, Izuki-senpai – I mean, Izuki-sensei." Furihata turns to see his senior, both now in his career and back in high school, and bows slightly. "Thank you for all your hard work."

"You too, you too. It's your first time properly organizing a field trip, isn't it?"

"Oh, y-yes. I've only been assisting before."

"Well, you're doing great so far. No deaths or casualties. Not yet, anyways." Izuki teases, casually leaning back against the wall. "Imagine the headlines. 'Parents steaming from child death on field trip'. Heh!"

"Um..." Furihata shifts awkwardly in his seat.

"Get it? Steaming? 'Cause we're at a ryokan? And in Kinosaki – the onsen town – no less!"

Furihata can only smile sheepishly. Izuki hasn't changed one bit since Seirin – all bad puns and jokes still fully intact. Unfortunately.

Later, they head to their shared room to unpack and prepare for the kids' afternoon activities. However, there appears to be one problem.

"Eh? Furihata, what's up?" Izuki asks when he sees Furihata stopping by the door, tilting his head at the luggage on the floor.

"Ano... that's not my bag."

* * *

"_Unacceptable_."

"We're really very sorry Akashi-sama! We promise to sort this out as soon as possible!"

"I would expect you to, and quickly."

"O-of course, sir. P-please excuse me. Once again, our deepest apologies that this has happened. We're really sorry!"

Akashi waves off the ryokan manager who is bowing and apologizing so much Akashi could've mistaken him for that one dainty Touou shooting guard Aomine likes to pick on.

"Heeeeh. Poor guy." Murasakibara appears by Akashi's door just in time to watch the manager leave in haste.

"Eh? Atsushi, you know what's going on?" Himuro, expectedly, appears beside the much taller purple-head, looking up at him curiously.

"Nah." Murasakibara answers, shrugging sluggishly. "I just know Aka-chin's mad. I feel sorry for anyone who makes Aka-chin mad."

"I see."

"Atsushi. Tatsuya." Akashi beckons them inside. "You've come to see me. Is there a problem?"

"Oh, no problem at all, Akashi-kun. Atsushi just said that you have something for him, so he wanted to come get it." Himuro explains.

"Ah." Akashi nods.

"Aka-chinnnnn. You promised me you'd bring me Yatsuhashi from Kyoto, and the limited edition Yatsuhashi flavored Kitkats too... you did bring them, didn't you? Say you brought them, Aka-chin."

"Yes, Atsushi. I did bring them."

"Ooh." Murasakibara stretches his abnormally long arm out to Akashi, palms up and ready to receive his promised food.

"Atsushi, don't be rude." Himuro nudges him.

"I'm not being rude, Muro-chin. Aka-chin already said he's gonna give me the snacks."

"Yes, but I'm afraid you will have to wait, Atsushi. The Yatsuhashi is not with me at the current moment."

Murasakibara instantly drops his hand and scowls like a child. "Whaaaat. Why?"

"Unfortunately, the inn has made somewhat of a mix-up and has managed to swap my suitcase with another guest's. I have already reprimanded the manager about this, and the issue should be resolved soon enough." Akashi says, concise and matter-of-factly, not at all hinting that his 'reprimanding' has the manager of the ryokan quite literally fearing for his life.

"And... the Yatsuhashi?" Murasakibara asks.

Akashi blinks. "In my suitcase, Atsushi."

"Oh. Okay, then." Murasakibara nods, satisfied. Then, frowns. "Muro-chin, what are you nudging me for?"

The inn phone rings at that point, and Akashi picks up to hear the manager's voice hurriedly telling him that they have found his bag. Akashi glances at his watch – three minutes; faster than he expected. Not bad.

"Very well. Bring it to my suite and you can collect this guest's luggage as well- what do you mean he's going to bring it over himself? He's a guest, he shouldn't- he's already on his way?"

Before Akashi can critique the clerk further for allowing a _guest_ to do their work – already preparing a speech on how his father will hear about this and how there will have to be many serious _adjustments_ to be made to the staff in the foreseeable future – there is a knock on the door.

Followed by a voice Akashi finds oddly familiar, but cannot really place.

"A-ano... excuse me, I believe we've swapped bags?"

Akashi hangs up the phone and calls back to the guest in a calm manner, standing up to adjust his yukata. "Yes, that is correct. I will be there in a moment."

* * *

Furihata tilts his head when he hears the reply through the door. This guest certainly has an authoritative tone – fitting for someone who's staying in the most expensive suite of the ryokan, really – but his voice is also light and smooth. Like the voice of a young man, unexpectedly, but still the voice of a professional. Furihata can already guess that this person must have come from a well-bred family.

The door clicks, unlocking sounds being heard, and Furihata bends over to bring the guest's suitcase forward.

Furihata is still pulling the bag when the door swings open. "Ah, here is your-"

Furihata freezes.

Large, piercing crimson eyes stare back at him, wide and intense, with deep red hair framing his face. All Furihata can see is red. Not a common hair and eye color, by any means.

In fact, Furihata has only ever met one person with this particular combination.

"Y-you..." Furihata begins to say, subconsciously taking one step forward, completely forgetting that he had just moved the guest's luggage there. The suitcase topples over and lands with a bang that is far too loud in this quiet corridor.

"Ah-! S-sorry!" Furihata quickly bows in apology. Flustered, he fumbles with the suitcase to stand it back up.

The red-haired young man – looking definitely no older than twenty years old, but with an air of maturity that exceeds even Furihata's – reaches out to help him, placing his hand directly beside Furihata's. Together, they get the suitcase back to its original position, but the man does not release his hold.

"A-ano, sorry about that," Furihata apologizes again, dipping his head.

The man is staring at their hands, next to each other on the luggage's handle, close enough that their skin is touching. He says nothing.

"U-um..." Furihata fidgets awkwardly, starting to pull his hands back.

In one sharp movement, faster than a blink of an eye, Furihata's hand is captured in the man's palm. The grip on him is strong enough to prevent Furihata from even _trying _to pull away.

"E-eh..?!" Furihata nervously flits his eyes up towards the man, before his round brown eyes widen. Because this man, with his red hair and intense crimson eyes, had just _squeezed_ his hand – and Furihata just _knows_. He gapes at him, "N-no way..."

The man – who Furihata is now certain can be no one else but _Akashi Seijuuro –_ bares his teeth in a sly smirk.

"Long time no see,_ Kouki._"

* * *

**A/N: **I'm not sure whether Japanese schools take their students to ryokans on field trips, but I wanted an onsen place, so hopefully this is not drastically inaccurate. Please go along with it, ne? ^^'' Also, I am taking liberties with this fic by making all of the Seirin regulars (with the exception of Kuroko and Kagami) ten years older – as seen with Izuki-senpai here.

As always, thank you for all your reviews, follows and favourites! I'm really glad if you are enjoying this story thus far :)


	5. Remember When

**Chapter 5: Remember When**

**Summary:** In which Furihata embarrasses himself more than once.

* * *

Furihata cannot believe he ran away.

Well, not exactly. Furihata didn't actually 'run'. It was more of an awkward sequence of avoiding any and all eye contact throughout the whole operation of 1) discreetly retrieving his bag from Akashi 2) walking backwards away with it 3) realizing how dumb that looked, hence, 4) turning around to walk the other way and 5) tripping over his own leg and falling flat on his face in the process. His suitcase slammed to the floor right beside him as though to mock his failure.

Furihata then proceeded to clumsily get up and speed-walked off to the elevator, only to remember that he's left his bag lying right where it fell the exact moment the elevator arrived. This resulted in a mad rush for the bag then back to the elevator – which, unsurprisingly, failed, the doors closing _just _as Furihata reached them. Typical.

Thus, Furihata was left standing there waiting for the next elevator, embarrassed beyond measure and fidgeting inelegantly under the scrutiny of Akashi Seijuuro's eyes. Meanwhile Akashi – complete with familiar demonic orbs which intensified about eightfold in the past ten years – stood there watching him with a mildly amused smile, making Furihata wish the floor would just open up and swallow him whole.

It has been five hours since then, and Furihata is _still _trying to get over the humiliation.

Because, really, why did he run away anyways? It wasn't like there was anything to run away _from. _It's not like they parted on bad terms – in fact, far from that. And yet, something about the way Akashi had _looked _at him, the way those lips curled into a sly smirk, that made Furihata's nerves scream '_danger_'.

Which is ridiculous, because Akashi isn't dangerous. Furihata had _raised _the boy, for heaven's sake, there is no way Akashi could be dangerous... right?

And yet, when the ryokan staff came to hand Furihata a note from one _Akashi Seijuuro_, Furihata cannot help the tiny high-pitched squeak of fear that escapes from the back of his throat.

"...Furihata, are you alright?"

Izuki furrows his brows when he comes back to the room to find Furihata hugging his knees, as still as stone on the bed, eyes boring into a piece of paper sitting by his feet.

"Yes. No. Um." Furihata looks up helplessly, "I- I don't know?"

Izuki blinks. "Oo-kay. Let me see that?"

Furihata gingerly hands the note over by his fingertips, as though the piece of paper is highly radioactive.

"Hmm, let's see, let's see, 'Meet me tonight, 19.00, at my suite. I will have dinner prepared for us. I believe we have much to catch up on. - A. S.'" Izuki raises his brows, his lips curling into a little grin, "Hehh? What's this? Sounds like you've got a date – who's this lucky A. S. person?"

"Oh, n-no, no, it isn't anything remotely like a date at all!" Furihata shakes his head, waving his hands frantically in front of him. "I-it's, um, he's just a kid I used to take care of."

"Hehh? He doesn't sound like a kid. Or writes like one – look at how immaculate this handwriting is!"

"Ano- well, it's been almost ten years since I've last seen him. So he's like- um..." Furihata counts the years on his fingers, "Eighteen. Yes, Akashi-kun should be around eighteen."

"Ahh. I see. That can be a little strange seeing them after so long." Izuki nods, before he pauses, and cocks his head to one side. "Wait a second. What did you say his name was?"

"Eh? Akashi. Akashi Seijuuro. Why?"

"Akashi, Akashi... sounds familiar, for some reason." Izuki shrugs. "Oh well. I'll tell you when I remember. Shouldn't you be heading off for this dinner already, by the way?"

"Huh? What time is it?" Furihata perks up. "Don't tell me-"

"Seven minutes past seven pm." Izuki shows him his watch, blinking the numbers '19:07' condescendingly at Furihata.

"Eh?!"

* * *

"You're late, _Kouki_."

_'Kouki.' _There's something peculiar about the way Akashi says his name that Furihata can't place his finger on. There is definitely somethingunderlying the tone of Akashi's voice, something odd, but Furihata doesn't know what exactly is off about it.

Akashi is standing in the doorway to his suite draped in a dark blue yukata, leaning on the doorframe with one shoulder – arms crossed, crimson eyes wide and staring. Still staring, even after all these years. Some things never change, it seems.

Furihata dips into a shallow bow before him. "I-I'm really sorry! I forgot to look at the time and before I knew it-"

"It is alright." Akashi cuts him off with a simple wave of his hand. "To be honest, I'm pleasantly surprised you even showed up. Judging from your reaction to meeting me earlier on."

"A-ano... sorry about that, too." Furihata flushes at the memory.

"No matter. You're here, now." Akashi's lips quirk into a serene smile, pushing off the doorframe and angling his body so that Furihata can enter his room.

Furihata shuffles past him, getting a whiff of Akashi's cologne – smooth ice, spicy sandalwood – and Furihata freezes, because gone is that mildly sweet shampoo scent of a child; Akashi smells like a _man._

"Is something the matter?" Akashi tilts his head, watching Furihata.

Furihata shakes his head, mumbling, "Oh, n-nothing."

"Hm?" Akashi leans towards him, red orbs on Furihata, leaning closer and closer until he is just about looming over Furihata, placing one hand above his head on the doorframe.

"U-um..."

"You haven't grown much taller since high school, have you?" Akashi suddenly asks – his face and voice all too close for Furihata's comfort.

"I- I don't think so?"

"How tall are you exactly?"

"Eh- I'm not entirely sure..." Furihata shifts awkwardly, not knowing where to look when Akashi is taking over about ninety percent of his scope of vision.

"I see." Akashi says, non-committal. Then with one last look at Furihata, he pulls back, much to the other's relief.

Furihata politely ducks under Akashi's arm and steps into his room, Akashi closing the door behind them. He motions for Furihata to take a seat at the kotatsu in the centre of the suite whilst he excuses himself to his bedroom section for a moment. Furihata, left alone, barely manages not to gawk at the array of food on the table – fresh king crab meat, sashimi, tempura, and is that-?

Furihata cannot help but chuckle fondly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Is there something amusing?" Akashi returns, a glass bottle in his hand, and moves to sit at the kotatsu as well.

Furihata smiles at him, cheeks dimpling, "I see your liking of tofu soup hasn't changed."

Akashi stills, eyes on Furihata. Those intense red orbs seem to deepen for just a second, then it is gone. Akashi sits behind the kotatsu and props his elbow on the table, casually leaning his chin on his palm. "Ah. I suppose it is only normal."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

Akashi flits his eyes back up to stare straight into Furihata's, "My liking of many things hasn't changed."

Furihata blinks. "E-eh?"

"_Itadakimasu._" Akashi picks up his chopsticks.

"Ano... _itadakimasu_." Furihata isn't given the opportunity to push into the subject any further.

They dine with Akashi's laptop playing soft music in the background, talking occasionally. Akashi asks about Furihata's job, humming agreeably when Furihata tells him he is now a school teacher. Akashi is not at all surprised that Furihata chose to go into a career involving children – after all, Furihata managed to deal with _Akashi _as a child, and that is no small feat. Furihata, in turn, asks about Akashi's school life and his plans for the future.

"University of Tokyo? That's incredible!" Furihata gapes, chopsticks paused before his mouth.

"Thank you." Akashi replies automatically, like he's done it a hundred times before. Furihata realises he probably has.

"Ah- but to be honest, I'm not surprised."

Akashi cocks an eyebrow, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, Akashi-kun has always been exceptionally smart, ne? Back when I used to go over to your house you'd beat me in every board and puzzle game there was," Furihata smiles and shakes his head, thinking back to the first time Akashi asked him to play Shogi against him.

_'You're not very good at this, Kouki.' _Akashi had said, his small fingers resetting the pieces of the board, two little red eyebrows tied into a knot of disapproval.

Furihata chuckles at the memory, "I was twice your age, but you beat me straight-up ten out of ten times."

"Ah. That's right." Akashi's lips curl, nostalgic, remembering. Then, after a pause, "'Akashi-kun'?"

"Huh? What was that?" Furihata looks up from his tempura.

Akashi watches him for a moment, "Nothing."

"Didn't you say something just now?"

"Did I, now? Do you want something to drink, Kouki?" Akashi swiftly changes the subject, pulling out the glass bottle he had previously.

"Eh? U-um, sure," Furihata nods, going with the flow. But then, something on the bottle's label catches his eye. "Is that _sake_?"

"Yes." Akashi replies easily, pouring Furihata and himself a cup each. "_Jukushu sake_."

"_Jukushu?_" The most expensive type. Of course. Furihata really shouldn't be surprised, but the years away from Akashi has lessened his immunity to these sorts of things. "Um... Akashi-kun, how old are you, actually? Because I thought you'd be-"

"Eighteen," Akashi hands Furihata a cup.

"A-ano... excuse me if I'm wrong, but isn't the legal drinking age twenty?"

"Yes. That is correct." Akashi nods, not missing a beat.

Furihata shifts in his seat, staring down at his cup, "U-um... as an educator, I feel like I should s-say something here-"

Akashi actually lets slip a tiny chuckle at that. The sly smirk from before is back on his face, crimson eyes glinting, "Don't pretend like you haven't done it yourself, Kouki."

"But t-technically I shouldn't really-"

"I won't tell."

"T-that's not the point-"

Akashi sighs, though he looks part-amused, "What, then? Should we pinky-promise on it to reassure you?"

Furihata's round brown eyes widen, "That is... y-you remember that?"

"Of course." Akashi raises his cup towards him, "Drink with me, Kouki. It's far better than letting me, a minor, drink all of it myself, is it not?"

"T-that's... that's cheating." Furihata pouts without realising.

"No, it's not cheating," Akashi's smirk only grows wider, "It's _'teamwork'_."

* * *

Furihata, thus far, has only ever been drunk three times in his life. First time was when he graduated from Seirin High. Second time was during initiations in his first year at Kyoto University. Third was when he graduated from Kyoto, and celebrated getting a job. All three times, a big event, an occasion – not that Furihata remembers much of any of them, but he knows he doesn't allow himself to get fully obliterated unless there is a significant reason for it.

Which is why Furihata is definitely not drunk right now. Not with his still very much underage – even though he doesn't act like it at all – former student. Tipsy? Very much so. But drunk? No. Definitely not.

"Akashi-kuuun. I can't believe you remember everything! _Everything,_ even after all this time!"

Not _yet_, anyways.

Akashi sits across from Furihata, watching the other's every movement with interest. His chin is propped up in his palm, an amused expression on his face. He didn't expect Furihata to be such a lightweight. Not that Akashi even considered the possibility of Furihata being a heavyweight, but he had expected at least a little more tolerance.

Akashi himself is not anywhere near tipsy. "Are you alright, Kouki?"

"I'm fiiiine." Furihata beams up at him from where his face is planted on the table. "You're not even drunk at all, are you?"

"I'm afraid not." Akashi says, with a quirk to his lips.

"How- how is that even fair?" Furihata scowls, "I'm older than you, y'know?"

"I am aware."

"There you go again, sounding so mature and proper. Just like back then!"

"Back then?"

"_Backkk_ then. When Akashi-kun was just a child."

"I see."

"You were so smart. No, you _are _so smart. Like- like- a genius. I remember thinking that when I first saw you play Shogi. Your hands were tiny. Ah, you were so little back then..." Furihata drifts off, resting his chin on the table, eyelids drooping.

"Not anymore," Akashi shakes his head.

"Mm...?"

"I'm taller than Kouki, now." He says, with a small note of satisfaction.

"Eh? You are?" Furihata looks up at him again, eyes wide and round. Then, his lips spread into a gentle smile, his eyes smiling with him. "You really have grown a lot, ne?"

"Yes, I-" Akashi pauses when all of a sudden, Furihata reaches over and places his hand atop his head and ruffles his hair fondly.

"I'm glad." Furihata says, dimpling even as his eyes become half-lidded.

Akashi does not move – barely even breathes – as he watches Furihata's eyes flutter shut, his fingers still woven in Akashi's hair. Furihata's eyelashes are still as long as they used to be, he notes, and that pleases him. Not as much as it pleases him that he's taller than Furihata now, but nonetheless.

Slowly, and with care, Akashi removes Furihata's hand from his head. However, he does not let go of him immediately. Instead, Akashi holds Furihata's hand with his own, raising a brow when he sees how his palm nearly envelopes Furihata's entirely – their positions from ten years ago now reversed.

And yet, despite everything that has changed in the past many years of not seeing each other, Furihata's hand is still as warm as Akashi remembers.

"I wonder," Akashi murmurs, running his thumb across the back of Furihata's hand.

"Mm..?" Furihata hums with his eyes still closed and his face fully resting on the table. "Ne, Akashi-kun?"

"What is it, Kouki?" Akashi's voice unintentionally drops a tone, and he doesn't even notice.

"I think-" he pauses, pondering for a moment. "-I think I'm drunk."

Akashi raises a brow, amused, "Yes, I think we've established that."

"But you're not drunk?"

"Not at all."

"Not even, like, a little bit?"

"Not in the slightest."

Furihata frowns at that, and even with his eyes closed he still manages to look confused.

"What's the matter?" Akashi inquires.

Furihata shakes his head, speaking slowly, "If- if you're not drunk, then why...?"

"'Why'?" he repeats.

"Why are you holding my hand?"

The question is so innocent, with absolutely nothing but pure curiosity behind his words. But somehow that makes it worse because Akashi cannot find a genuine answer for this genuine question. There is no answer. He hadn't thought about it when he took Furihata's hand in his own, he just did. Even that by itself is unusual for someone like Akashi, because Akashi _always _has a plan, a clear purpose to each and every movement. Think first, act later, and never the other way around.

It's been too long since Akashi has done something with absolutely no strategizing beforehand.

"Do you dislike it?" Akashi retorts the question with a question. It avoids having to answer the question itself.

"Nope," Furihata replies instantly. "I'm just- curious."

Akashi remains quiet. Then, he gives Furihata's hand a firm squeeze instead of a verbal response.

Furihata smiles with closed eyes, "That again."

"Hm?"

"This." Furihata squeezes back, "I remember this."

"Do you, now?" Akashi says in a soft voice, intertwining their fingers. Another squeeze.

"Yes," Furihata lets his fingers fall between Akashi's, sighing pleasantly. "I missed this."

Akashi's chest tightens at that, but he ignores the feeling. "Is that so?"

"Mm-hm," Furihata nods, before he turns his head and flutters his eyes slightly open to look at Akashi – those warm caramel-colored orbs melty and glazed over. "I just- yeah. I missed _you_, mostly."

This time, Akashi cannot ignore the hard clench right behind his sternum. The lurch is strong enough it takes hold of his breath for a second, demanding his attention. His voice reduces to a low hum, "You missed me."

"I did!" he smiles, then giggles a little – and Akashi wishes he wouldn't do that because Furihata giggling only makes the ache, that strange twinge of pain, worse. "Ahh, can you keep a secret, Akashi-kun?"

"Of course."

"Heh, don't tell anyone this, but-" Furihata pauses to lower his voice into a mischeivous whisper, bringing his index finger to his lips, his brown eyes sparkling. "Out of all the children I've met, you're my favourite, y'know."

It really doesn't make any sense that Akashi would find someone – a grown _man_, not to mention; a man who's almost ten years older than him and quite terribly drunk – this adorable. It doesn't make sense at all.

Akashi squeezes Furihata's hand tight, saying nothing.

"Don't tell anyone, 'kay? I'm not meant to- um, like- have favourites..." Furihata leans his cheek back on to the table and lets his eyes fall shut again. "...or something like that... the proto- protocol and all, that's what the trainers said..."

Akashi lets him ramble on, running the pad of his thumb over the back of Furihata's index finger, watching him silently; the rise and fall of his chest. The way his lips remain slightly parted even after he's stopped speaking. For a while, the room is filled only by the sound of their breaths and the soft music playing in the background.

It isn't until Akashi is certain Furihata has fallen completely asleep that he finally speaks – leaning in close so that he is mere centimeters away from Furihata's cheek, voice barely audible.

"You're _my_ favourite, Kouki."

Another squeeze of his hand. Another whisper.

"Be warned. This time, I'm not letting you go."

* * *

Furihata is suffering. Visibly, too, if the comments from his clear-eyed students are anything to go by.

"Furi-sensei! Furi-sensei! Are you dying?"

"Ehh? If Furi-sensei is dying, shouldn't he be in hospital?"

"Baka! Not everyone who's dying is in hospital."

"But they mostly are, though!"

"Furi-sensei kind of looks like he's dying..."

"I know! Maybe we should take Furi-sensei to the hospital!"

"Yeah!"

"Kids, kids," Izuki swoops in to save his colleague before Furihata either collapses to the floor or throws up all over the poor tiny souls crowding over him. "Furi-sensei isn't dying, alright? He's just feeling a little under the weather, so you all have to be on your best behavior and not give him any more trouble, yes?"

"Haiiii." The children chime in unison before trotting off as a group to continue their sight-seeing.

"Ano- thank you very much, senpai," Furihata dips his head – and oh, that's a bad idea, his brain feels like it's going to fall out. Ugh, he is never drinking again. Ever.

"No problem," Izuki pats his shoulder reassuringly. "Everyone's allowed a slip up every now and again. Ne, what were you drinking last night?"

"Um- _jukushu sake_, I think it was." Even the _memory_ of the drink's name is enough to make Furihata cringe.

Izuki whistles. "Uwoh, posh. Shame, though. I was just about to play a pun about wine."

Furihata decides to humor him, "What about wine?"

Izuki flashes a huge smile, "When you get a wine hangover, it's called a _grape_ depression!"

Ah. Maybe he shouldn't have encouraged him after all. Furihata can only offer a dry smile.

"Oh yeah. By the way, I remember now why the name of your date yesterday sounded so familiar."

"I-it wasn't a date!" Furihata quickly corrects him. Akashi is his former _student_, for goodness's sake. He used to be the height of Furihata's hip. Granted, that was almost ten years ago, but _still_.

Izuki shrugs, a teasing grin on his face, "Kind of looked like one when he came to send you off last night, carrying you bridal-style and all."

"W-wha- no way! B-bridal-style?"

"Yup. All to way to your bed, too." Izuki winks.

Furihata groans and buries his face in his hands. How is he ever meant to face Akashi again after this? He doesn't even _remember _half of the night, let alone the part of how he got back to his room. Who knows what else he had done to embarrass himself?

Izuki laughs and nudges Furihata playfully. "Come on, it's not that bad. He seems like a good kid, anyways."

Furihata thinks that his definition of 'not that bad' must be drastically different from Izuki's. After all, Furihata had to be carried back to bed by a _teenager_ who is his _ex-student _because he _got too drunk and passed out._ No. 'Not that bad' is definitely an understatement.

Izuki continues, "I'm actually quite surprised. His reputation makes him sound like an egotistical bastard, but he seemed decent enough when he was tucking you in."

"H-he did wha-" Furihata shakes his head, deciding it is perhaps better not to know about all the details of his utter failure as a human being last night. "Eh? He has a reputation?"

"Oh yes. That's why his name is so familiar. Akashi Seijuuro, right? I recognized him as soon as I saw him. He's part of the Generation of Miracles group in middle and high school basketball. You've heard of them, surely?"

Of course Furihata's heard of them. Who _hasn't_? The Generation of Miracles and their insane talents are notorious amongst the Japanese basketball community. But Furihata never actually looked them up to find out about the individual members – all he knows is that they are a group of young and ridiculously brilliant basketball players. "A-are you serious? You mean, Akashi-kun is part of them?"

Izuki nods, "He's actually the Captain, I think."

Furihata's jaw drops. Yes, he's well aware that Akashi is beyond exceptional, but this is taking it to a whole different level of downright _unfairness_.

"Apparently he's a genius Point Guard. I've seen him play in the Interhigh finals, and as a PG myself, I was super impressed."

"Uwah, really..." Furihata is, too, a Point Guard. And everything may be purely coincidental, but Furihata cannot help but feel rather giddy that Akashi – who Furihata thought had probably forgotten all about him after a few years – went into a sport that Furihata loves, and plays the exact same position he plays.

At that point, Furihata's cell phone starts ringing. He excuses himself to pick it up, and almost drops his phone altogether when he sees the name flashing on his screen.

_'Akashi Seijuuro'_

Furihata fumbles to catch the device, telling himself to pull it together – why is he even panicking, really? – before clumsily pressing the green button. "A-ano... hello?"

[_Kouki._]

Akashi's voice sounds even more mature on the phone, his voice smooth like brandy, straight to Furihata's ears.

"Ah, h-hai. Akashi-kun?"

[Yes, it's me.]

"H-how did you get my number?"

[We exchanged numbers last night. Do you not remember?]

"Um..." No. Furihata has absolutely no memory of that whatsoever, thank you, alcohol.

[I suppose that is to be expected, judging from your state of inebriation. How are you feeling?]

"Eh? I'm- I'm okay, thank you." That's a lie. Furihata's head feels like it's on the verge of exploding, but Akashi doesn't need to know that. "Ano... I'm truly sorry for being a burden last night."

[Not at all. Contrary, I rather enjoyed your company.]

"B-but, um, it was still inappropriate behavior on my part..."

[Don't worry yourself over it. I was the one who invited you to drink, thus technically, I am also responsible.]

"Y-you even had to, um, c-carry me back," Furihata flushes, his stuttering becoming worse when he's nervous.

[Ah, yes. That.] Furihata can almost here the sly smirk emerging in Akashi's tone. [Well, Kouki, if it makes you feel any better, you can make it up to me.]

"E-eh? M-make it up to-"

[Meet me at my suite after you put your students to bed. I do not mind the exact time.]

"Huh? A-ano..."

[I'll take that as a yes. See you tonight, Kouki.]

Akashi hangs up.

Furihata stares at his phone.

"He-hehh?!"

* * *

"Akashi-kun is in a good mood."

Akashi likes to pretend that he's no longer taken aback when Kuroko Tetsuya randomly _appears _out of thin air, but sometimes it is more difficult to mask his surprise. Especially when he is not prepared.

"Tetsuya," Akashi calmly looks up from his mobile phone – as though he's known all along that Kuroko has been there – and nods at his former teammate. "I thought you'd be at the onsen with your Seirin Ace."

"His name is Kagami-kun," Kuroko says. "And I've discovered the hard way that I am not very compatible with onsens, so I left Kagami-kun there with Aomine-kun."

Akashi tilts his head, "Your Ace with Daiki? If they start drowning each other I will place all the blame on you."

"His name is Kagami-kun," Kuroko insists. "And I'd like to believe my 'lights', both former and current, have more maturity than that. Also, I think they like each other plenty. They're just very childish about it." He pauses, realising. "Ah. Maybe I shouldn't have left them alone after all."

"Perhaps not." Akashi agrees.

Kuroko raises his eyebrows slightly – Akashi must truly be in agood mood if he's easily _agreeing _to things, instead of the usual 'yes, you should've known better' response. Not that Kuroko is complaining. Akashi in an agreeable mood is like Christmas; it doesn't come by very often and, therefore, should be celebrated.

As Kuroko excuses himself and drifts off back to the onsen area, he wonders whether Akashi's good mood has anything to do with the picture he was looking at on his cell phone before he realised Kuroko was there:

The picture of a young man with fluffy brown hair sleeping on a kotatsu table, his hand intertwined with (what Kuroko is pretty certain looks like) Akashi's own.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm so sorry this update is late! Feel free to throw things at me for being a horrible person leaving y'all on a cliffhanger last time. It's just University re-started again and everything's much busier than I expected it to be. Alas, updates are going to be much slower now – I won't give false promises, but I'll _try_ my best to update at least once every month or so.

Also, WHOA. 100+ followers and favourites? How- wha- ehh? That's amazing! Thank you so much for all your support and reviews! :)


End file.
